


Brighter Stars

by esama



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Depression, Do not repost, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-02 08:36:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20685962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esama/pseuds/esama
Summary: Thor from 2023 travels back into 2011, mostly by accident.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Proofread by nimadge, many thanks
> 
> Background music: [Detroit: Become Human opening theme](https://youtu.be/rlYajM8hjwI)

Let it not be said that Thor did it on purpose. Let it not be said that he even did it knowingly, for it was most certainly not his intention to do it. But perhaps there was some trick of memory and subconscious desire involved, maybe his finger slipped over the quantum GPS and perhaps he afterwards wasn't as alarmed or as let down as he rightly should have been – perhaps there is even some relief, nay, joy in this mistake, after.

In either case, his hand does move over the quantum GPS and his finger does slip over the keypad and the numbers there, carefully programmed to take him back whence he came, shift and scramble – and what was meant to be a round-trip between Earth and Asgard, past and future, ends up quite the one-way trip backwards in time once and then again.

And so screaming, hurtling down a familiar spill of colour and roaring of the universe, Thor falls down to Earth, again. 

He bounces, lightly and then settles down in a heap. Under him there is dusty, dry ground, its grit familiar in his teeth as his head slams down and a starburst of shock flitters through his vision – and then he smells it, the acrid tint of a burn and ozone, as familiar as his armour, his weapons. The Bifrost – and the soil it left scorched in its wake.

The noise he makes is one of pain.

Thor knows, intellectually, what happened. Emotionally, he lies on the ground and presses his face into it and doesn't feel like acknowledging it just now. The earth feels solid under him, warm and cool all at once, rocks digging into his midriff. Around him is the burnmark of the Bifrost, its embers still glowing in the darkness.

The smell is already overwriting the memory of her scent and the dirt the memory of the softness of her hair. Somewhere in another time, his mother will be continuing her day normally all the way to her eventual death, and Thor had told her _so little_. She had refused to listen – and he understands why. That doesn't mean it doesn't make him weep, just a little.

It's a long while before he feels like lifting his head – by that point the dust of his arrival has settled a little, and what he knew asserts itself in the stars overhead. Turning around to lie in his back, Thor looks up, sniffling a little, rubbing a hand over his nose. It is night, and he knows these stars – the galaxy as seen from Earth.

From the position of the local planets alone he can tell the time is wrong. In his heart, he knows just how wrong is is. Without looking he knows he is out of Pym Particles. He is out of time. He is stuck.

All these thoughts settle slowly.

Earth stars have nothing on the stars of Asgard, Thor thinks and his face twists for another, barely smothered sob. By the Allfathers, he misses Asgard _so much,_ and he was _just there_...

In the distance, he can hear voices – thrum of a car engine, women, sounds of panicking. They sound – familiar.

Almost afraid, Thor tilts his head to look.

Headlights of a van, two women, one man – no, two men, one of them on the ground. Jane, he'd recognise her anywhere, is kneeling over Thor who lays on the ground, weak, unconscious.

"Call 911!" Jane calls. "I think he's alive, but –"

"Are you kidding, it would take them forever to get there, if they'd even find this place at all," Darcy answers, even while dialing the phone. 

"She's right," Eric Selvig agrees, "it'll be faster if we take him to town ourselves – did he break anything, how is his neck?"

Thor – the Elder – watches this with a tilted head and sand in his scalp. They haven't seen him, they don't know he's watching, in the darkness he's invisible. He could just – lie here. Lie here and pretend it would be alright.

No, it _would_ be alright. The rabbit had the Aether, he'd take it to the future, Stark would build a gauntlet, everything would be alright. Everything would be just fine. Even without him there. Because now he would never be there again. He'd be here. He'd be here _forever_.

Thor's lip quivers and he looks up at the stars again.

"Come on," Jane says in the distance. "Let's get him into the car – let's get him out of here –"

"Wait!" Thor calls and then, against his better judgement and wishes, pushes himself up from the ground. "Wait, wait –"

The activity by the car ceases, and someone aims a flashlight in his direction as Thor staggers to his feet. The nanosuit has withdrawn again, and he's in his own clothes, sand and dirt raining down from them as he stands, blinded by the light.

"You don't – you don't have to take him to the hospital," Thor says, shielding his eyes from the light and bracing himself before walking over. "He's going to be fine, just fine – just let him sleep it out and he'll be right as rain!"

"Oh my god, what the hell –?" Darcy says, going for her taser gun – and in that moment moment Thor the Younger wakes up with a roar.

Thor the Elder stops to watch Darcy taze himself, scratching at the grit sticking to his belly as the younger version goes into a total plank and then falls over like a block of wood.

"Well, that's embarrassing," he says and then holds up his hands as Darcy turns the – used up – taser gun on him. "I'm unarmed, see, unarmed, don't taze me. Wouldn't really even do anything, but still –"

"Who-who are you?" Jane demands, holding her flashlight like a gun. "Where did you come from? And who is he?"

"Well – I came over there," Thor says, pointing at where he landed while peering at his younger self to make sure he's not drooling – he isn't. "I'm Thor – he is also Thor – and we came from the anomaly you just witnessed, had a bit of a bumpy ride, nothing to worry about –"

"What?"

"It's all very complicated – Rosen-something bridges, I forgot the name," Thor admits and waves his hand. "Point is that I'm fine and he's going to be fine – can I just check –"

He inches closer and Darcy pulls the trigger. The taser prongs are imbedded in the chest of the younger Thor, however, so it's him who gets the shock.

Thor the Elder clears his throat a little. It's not even that big of a charge, but the younger Thor still wiggles a little under the current. It's – kind of sad, really.

"Darcy!" Jane snaps.

"He's creeping me out!"

"Alright, why don't we just calm down and –" Selvig wrestles the taser from Darcy and Thor inches closer to his younger self to check up on him.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," Jane says and quickly goes to pull the prongs out. "We'll get him to a hospital –"

She stops as Thor the Elder nudges the Younger with his foot. "Eh," he says. "He'll be _fine_ – Allfather didn't strip everything from him, and it'll take more than a little lightning to kill him. Me," he says and coughs. "You wouldn't happen to have any beer – the air here is _so _dry."

"Are you drunk?" Darcy demands dubiously.

Jane stares at him incredulously for a moment and then says, "He was hit by a _van_ and Darcy has now tasered him twice – he needs to be checked for internal injuries and heart damage –"

"It's fine, it's _fine_ – it'll just waste everyone's time, really, he'll walk it off, no problem."

They stare at him. "He's nuts," Darcy decides.

"Listen, sir," Selvig says, frowning. "Are you related to him?"

"Yes yes, I told you – he's me," Thor says. "I'm him – we're as related as you can be, really – and I'm telling you, he'll be _fine_ –"

"He's drunk _and_ nuts," Darcy says, her tone almost impressed.

"Listen," Jane says, earnest and so kind, touching his shoulder. "I'm sure you two had a great time, drinking out here, but your brother is hurt and we need to get him to hospital, alright? Even is he will be alright, it is better we check, alright? You can come with us, okay?"

Oh, Allfather, Thor is going to _cry_. "You are so _nice_," he says, lower lip quivering. "You are above all women, you know that, all the women of Earth, you are the best."

"Okay," Jane says with a fixed smile and very patient tone of voice. "Why don't you go to the van – Darcy, show him to the van and Eric and I will pick up his brother –"

Thor sniffles, drags a hand under his nose and then picks up his raggedy-doll of younger self from the ground, throwing him over his shoulder.

They stare at him.

"Okay!" Jane says, her voice couple octaves higher. "Great! Let's go then."

* * *

They take Thor the Younger to a hospital and Thor the Elder is made to wait in the lobby. They ask him for ID and whatnot, but Thor has none to give, and the situation has settled enough that he figures telling he's an alien from outer space as well as a time traveler wouldn't go over too well.

So he just mumbles something about brothers until the nurse decides he's too drunk to answer questions and leaves him be. There is one other person in the lobby, and he gives Thor a wide berth. The passing night nurses give him weird looks. Everyone looks a tad displeased.

Thor waits for as long as he can stomach it, which isn't very long at all, and then he stumbles out in search of a drink.

The situation is – it is – it isn't ideal. This he knows. Jane and Darcy and Selvig left, went back to their van, to their research, but they'd be back – once they figured this out. Thor remembers they did. She hit him with her car, again.

So it would be fine, if he took a little break and had a drink.

"You got any money?" The bartender asks dubiously.

"Er," Thor answers. "Right, um," he rummaged through his pockets. "I don't suppose you take Norwegian Krone?" he asks, without much hope, eyeing the crinkled up bills. "Not even sure why I even carry this stuff around – think Brunnhilde made me, can't remember –"

The bartender looks a little more interested. "Norwegian? You're from Norway? Your English is amazing."

"No, I'm just living in Norway, now – or I was, before I came here. I was living somewhere elsewhere before, but we moved to Norway, five years ago," Thor says, trying to straighten up the bills. "Little town called Tønsberg – the oldest town in Norway, actually. The home of Vikings and the like…"

The bartender considers him and then takes out his phone, looking between the 500 and 200 Krone notes and the screen. "I guess I could take a few of those," he says. "With interest, because I will have to go and change them."

"You think to trick me just because I am a little drunk?" Thor demands.

"I can also not sell you anything, how about that?"

Thor squints and then hands him a 500 krone note. "Make me as many boilermakers as that gets me," he says.

He should do something. He's in the past, that – that Thor has figured out. He'd been thinking of calling Mjölnir to him, he'd held out his hand to do it, but then, realising he'd be stealing that time's Thor's hammer and leaving him without a weapon to fight the Dark Elves with, he'd decided against it. He has Stormbreaker anyway, shrunken and safe in his pocket. So he'd lowered his hand, checked the GPS as if that was what he meant to do all along, and then… he was even further in the past.

Only it's not the past anymore, is it – his arrival has changed things. It is not his past anymore, no, this is the past of an alternate reality, one where Thor, son of Odin was not cast out alone.

Here his mother isn't dead yet, nor would she be for another two, three years. Loki is alive also, as is Odin. Hela is still in Hel. Asgard still stands strong. Strong – and yet growing weaker every day as Odin grows older and neither of two sons prove fit to take his place. Out there, Thanos is rising to threaten the Nine Realms and Asgard would fail to protect them.

The first boilermaker goes down _fast_.

Stronger than Odin indeed. Thousand and five hundred years he's lived, and he might be stronger than Odin in body, but not in spirit, not in will – not in wisdom.

Thor peers down the empty pint and then pushes it away, reaching for the other. The bartender peers at him with some concern. "You okay where, big guy?"

"Splendid," Thor says. "Just splendid."

"If you were one of my regulars, I'd ask if everything was alright at home," the bartender says. "But seeing that you're from Norway, I don't think it carries the same weight. Your trip not going the way you hoped?"

Thor considers the man and then takes a drink or his second boilermaker. "No. And maybe yes, but also no," Thor says and leans his elbows on the counter. "We were hoping to undo something that went horribly wrong, and by the might of the Allfathers I hope they succeed, but I got myself stranded here, before everything went wrong. And I should be – _grieved_, for having been left behind, but I'm not. There is nothing there for me, all I knew and loved is gone. Here it is all back, and so far away – and in danger, in deadly terrible danger. And I…"

Thor giggles softly over his drink. "I'm sitting here, _drinking_," he finishes.

"... Well, it sounds like you want to maybe do something else," the bartender says, eyeing him like he's insane. "Take it from a professional, sitting around drinking doesn't actually solve all that much."

"It is an excellent way to spend time, however," Thor says and takes a drink. "I don't suppose you have any snacks in here?"

"I got some Cheetos in the back?"

"Perfect."

He's spent another 500 Krone on another pair of boilermakers and is on this third one when Jane finds him, dragging behind her Darcy, who is yawning heavily into a coffee cup.

"There you are!" Jane calls. "I've been looking for you – you weren't at the hospital."

"No, I am here," Thor says, around a Cheeto. "I would buy you a drink, but the bartender here extorts a heavy price and my Krone are running low."

"Your what?" Darcy asks and Thor waves his last 200 at her.

"What about your brother – did you just leave him?" Jane demands. "To continue drinking alone?"

"He's fine – he will escape the hospital by dawn," Thor says dismissively. "After which you will run him over with your car, again."

"What?" Jane asks, making a face. "It's dawn now, it's been dawn for a while now – have you been here all night?"

"Aye, I have," Thor says and smiles. "This marvellous, if highly expensive, establishment is open around the clock, it's most convenient."

"The bartender here let you pay with monopoly money?" Darcy asks peering at the bill.

"What is that, monopoly?"

"I mean fake money," Darcy says, and gives him a look, her brows raised. "Your money is fake."

"No it isn't, they are real Norwegian Krone," Thor says and shrugs, taking a sip. "He charges me through the nose to cover exchange fees. It is fine."

"Uhh, hate to break it to you, but yeah, this is totally fake," Darcy says and points. "I mean look at this picture? This is wrong."

"How would you even know?" Jane asks, blinking.

"What? I'm political science major. Economies of the world are like major political science thing. Also my dad collects foreign currency."

The bartender's whips around and Thor coughs. "So? It is still real money," he says. "Who cares about what the picture on it is?"

"Uh, most _everyone_ would?"

"Did you try to pay me with fake money?!" the suddenly very irate bartender demands.

Thor chews his Cheeto. "I told you, the money is real – who cares about a picture, so as long as the value is correct –"

"That's _it,_ I knew there was something off about you – I'm calling the police –"

"Wait wait wait," Jane says quickly, holding up her hands. "I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding – listen, why don't I pay for his tab and we just forget this ever happened, alright?"

The transaction happens too fast for Thor to object – not that he truly knows what to say anyway. Jane pays for his drinks and his Cheetos, and then she and Darcy usher him out of the bar and out of the angry bartender's view. Thor barely manages to grab his last boilermaker on the way out, and the bartender doesn't seem to happy about that either. But the beverage was paid for, so...

"Pretty sure all of these are fake," Darcy says, examining Thor's money. "I mean, there's a boat in this one – and this one it's a fish?"

Thor makes a face. What's wrong with fish – New Asgard survived on fish, it was the only import they had. Along with… fighting lessons. And occasionally technology, though Brunnhilde didn't like it. "What is it supposed to be then?" he asks, "if not a fish?"

Darcy shows him. Apparently, there is supposed to be pictures of people on the money. A man on the 200 Krone note, and a woman in the 500 one.

"Well," Thor says, uncertain. "That is not my fault?" He didn't even know that people changed the images on their money. Well, there was that thing in 2020 when Eurozone decided to honour the losses of the Snap by printing a special type of banknotes, but it garnered not a small amount of ire from the citizens...

"You're the one running around with fake money, dude," Darcy says. "So I think it kind of _is_ your fault."

"Fake… or misplaced," Jane says thoughtfully. "There is a theory that the Einstein-Rosen Bridge doesn't only work through space – but time as well. What if…"

Thor smiles at her as she trails away, her mind obviously awhirl with ideas. "You are so smart," he says and looks at Darcy. "Isn't she just so smart?"

"You're both nuts," Darcy says, shaking her head. "Come on, let's get to the van before she starts sciencing up the sidewalk."

"Can she really do that?" Thor asks interestedly.

"Oh yeah," Darcy agrees. "I take her chalk away when I find it, but somehow she always has a stick at hand when she needs it. And let me tell you, your theorems don't look half as good when they're scribbled in the asphalt by a children's playground."

"I'll drive," Jane announces determinedly. "We need to find the other guy, I have a theory – and I need both of them to prove it."

"Great," Darcy agrees and ushers Thor into the back of the van. "Be nice and don't throw up all over the place, dude, okay? We still have to drive this thing back to Culver, and I'd rather not do it sniffing your stomach acid."

"I will try my best," Thor agrees and sits back while Jane takes the wheel.

Thor has a nice clear view of the back window as Jane begins to back the van away from the parking lot. With the last of his last boilermaker in hand, he watches a blond figure walk in the way and halfheartedly says, "Watch out," just as Jane hits Thor the Younger with her car again.

The two women in the front seats turn to look behind in horror.

Thor shrugs. "Told you," he says and takes a drink.


	2. Chapter 2

Thor dozes off for a bit, while Jane and Darcy are picking Thor the Younger off the pavement. He dreams of nothing, so it cannot be a very long sleep – barely a wink, really – before he wakes up to the feeling of someone prodding at his shoulder.

Thor the Younger is staring at him, his face alive with confusion and suspicion. While Thor the Elder blinks – he's lost his pint, someone has taken it from his hand – Thor the Younger takes a strand of beard in his fingers, and tugs at it, hard.

"Hey," Thor the Elder says and swats at the hand.

"You are not Loki," Thor the Younger says accusingly.

The stab of pain is sudden and as familiar as breathing, and so, Thor the Elder breathes through it. Then he swats at the younger man again. "No," he says. "What's going on?"

"Lady Jane says we are at her place of residence, and should join her inside," Thor the Younger says, scowling at him with concentrated confusion – a look Thor the Elder knows well. He's trying to look wise and in control, despite the fact that he obviously has no idea what is going on. Confidence in stupidity. Yes, Thor knows it well.

It doesn't look nearly as impressive as Thor the Younger likely thinks, seeing as the younger man is wearing a backless hospital gown.

"Well, get off my face then, man," Thor the Elder says and pushes at the younger man again. "Go on."

Thor the Younger leans in at that, trying to be all threatening. "Not before I get some answers," he says, pitching his tone low. "Who are you and why do you sport my face? Are you a shapeshifter, some sort of – face stealer?"

Thor the Elder lets out a belch. "Actually, you will find that you're the one sporting my face – I had it first," he says and then pushes himself up from the surprisingly comfy seat in the back of Jane's van. "And I have my face, because it's… my face. And I really need to take a piss, so if you'd mind…"

Thor the Younger narrows his eyes. "Your face is wrong, your eyes are wrong, your body is wrong. You can't fool me, trickster. Did Loki sent you to vex me? You cannot trick a son of Odin."

"Ugh," Thor the Elder answers, puts his hand on the younger man's face, and pushes him out of the van. "Forgot what a dickbag I was," he mutters and shoulders his way out of the van, despite Thor the Younger's best efforts to keep him there. He's only human, currently, as far as strength goes – nothing he can do to stop real Thor.

The younger Thor sputters while the elder one stretches. They're by the garage, and inside is all of Jane's research, spread out over every surface. There is also Jane, Darcy and Selvig, staring at them.

"It's uncanny," Selvig says. "They're like reflections."

"Yeah, in a funhouse mirror," Darcy agrees.

"Um – maybe some clothes?" Jane offers to Thor the Younger.

He narrows his eyes, looking between Thor the Elder and the humans. "Please," he says, and it sounds more like a command.

"Don't mind him, he's _privileged_ and a bit full of himself," Thor the Elder says with a another, smothered belch, and looks towards Darcy. "Bathroom?"

"Thattaway," she points. "Feel free to have a shower while you're at it."

He waves a grateful hand towards her and then heads to the bathroom, leaving Thor the Younger sputtering after him in outrage. In the bathroom, he pisses, washes his face and hands, and then has a small panic attack.

Damn it all, he'd forgotten… he'd forgotten. And now he has to deal with this, with the younger Thor, with Jane and Darcy and Selvig and Loki, oh Allfathers, _Loki…_ and if things by some universe-begotten miracle went well, and not worse than they had last time, there'd be consequences, and he has no idea what to do with those.

Well, he would be able to fight the Destroyer, no problem. He has Stormbreaker somewhere in his pocket. And it answers only to him, it had been forged to his hand, by Eitri and by Groot, and by himself, and by Rocket. Even Odin Allfather cannot take it away. Stormbreaker only answers to those he, Thor, deems Worthy of it. That is something he can rely upon, at least.

Thor draws soothing breaths and then cards his fingers haphazardly through his beard, to get the worst of the water out.

When he steps out, Thor the Younger is shirtless, parading himself in front of the women, oh so casual and accidental. "Oh, please," Thor the Elder mutters and collapses on the nearest chair. It so happens to be closest to Selvig – which, honestly, is preferable. In this company, Selvig is likely the closest to his own speed.

"So," the scientist says. "What do you know about alternate realities?"

Thor looks at him. "You got beers and a couple of hours?" he asks.

"Haven't you drank enough, dude?" Darcy asks, not taking her eyes off Thor the Younger.

"If there's still drinks to be drunk, then there's drinking to be done," Thor says and makes himself comfortable. Just looking at Thor the Younger is making him feel all tight and uncomfortable, like his spine got ice in it. "Damn, I was skinny," he says, shaking his head. "You know – really uncomfortable weight, that," he points at Thor the Younger. You can see man's _hip bones_, it's really unpleasant, really. "You know how you get those muscles to show up like that?"

"How?" Darcy asks with great interest.

"Dehydration."

"Oh."

Thor the Younger sends him a care. "What would you know of such matters?" he demands. "You _slob_."

"I…" Thor the Elder considers his rebuttal and then shrugs, looking at Selvig. "Are there beers to be had?"

Selvig considers him, the younger Thor, and then at the women. "Well, there might be," he says. "If you answer some questions."

"Quest away," Thor says, scratching at his belly.

"Who are you? Both of you?" Jane asks. "You look – almost exactly alike, but – "

"He is obviously some sort of shape shifter, a trickster, sent here to plague on my – my doubts," Thor the Younger says, eyes narrowed. "A trick by Loki or by Odin, I do not know, but it is a test, and I will beat it."

Thor the Elder blinks at that. "Hey, hey, that's good, that's excellent," he says and points a finger at him. "Doubts, you got – you got doubts, that's progress. Doubts are good."

"Ugh," Thor the Younger says and shakes his head, turning to Jane. "Regardless of what he is, this human form grows weak. It requires sustenance."

"He is being _historically accurate_," Thor the Elder says, full with finger quotes. "Got these books in Asgard, really, really… terrible books, about what humans of Earth – Midgard – are like. Really outdated – based on relationships and diplomacy of back when humans thought we were gods, and all that. What he means to say is he's hungry, but according to texts you're supposed to talk all high and mighty at humans because they won't understand otherwise, so…" he waves a hand. "Give it a few days, it passes."

Thor the Younger scowls at him. "What are you talking about?" he demands.

"Humans have changed quite a deal, since you were taught about how to deal with them and since your school trips on Earth," Thor the Elder says and shrugs. "Midgard. Humans call it Earth. Well, English humans do. There's a whole bunch of languages – like, hundreds, it's wild."

"Wait, wait, wait," Darcy says, looking between them. "Are you claim to not be humans from Earth?!"

"Obviously we are not from this planet, no," Thor the Younger says.

Thor the Elder gives her a smile. "The Galaxy is an incredible beautiful, completely bonkers place, full of all sorts of strange forms of life," he admits. "We're from Asgard, the Realm of Gods…"

And then he remembers the way Asgard was destroyed, the spectacular, gratuitous devastation of it, and his voice falters.

"Ha, see!" Thor the Younger says triumphantly. "He cannot speak his lies with a straight face, obviously he is not an Asgardian, such as I."

"Okay, okay, wait," Jane says, looking between them. "Say we believe you about you being from – not Earth. Which is completely wild, but let's go with it. That means, the Einstein-Rosen Bridge… You, you used it. Intentionally, you can – you can control it?"

"What is this Einstein-Rosen Bridge?" Thor the Younger asks, turning to her.

"She means the Bifrost," Thor the Elder explains and kicks up his foot on one of the lab tables. "Or something like it. Unanchored jump point travel – Bifrost, teleportation, that sort of thing. Wormholes and such."

"Oh. Then – yes," Thor the Younger says, blinking. "I didn't know human magic was at stage they could comprehend such complicated spellcraft."

"Science," Thor the Elder explains to the humans while Darcy pushes his foot back down. "And – technology. Asgardians call it all magic. It's confusing, I know, you'll get used to it."

"Huh," the humans answer in unison, and they don't look so much confused as they look – blank-faced.

Thor the Younger turns to him again. "You seem to know much about these matters," he says. "Perhaps you are not here as a test, but to guide me through this realm."

"Man, I'm not here for you at all," Thor the Elder says with a sigh and looks at Selvig plaintively.

"I'll… get you a beer," Selvig agrees, his face a mask of confusion. "I'll just… yeah." He heads off.

"So," Jane says, sidling closer to Thor the Elder. "You come from another – planet. Where you can make your own wormholes," she says, as if to make sure. "And you two, you're…" she motions between them. "You're not brothers."

"_No_!" Thor the Younger says.

"Nah," Thor the Elder agrees and points at him. "I'm him, twelve years in the future."

"What?" Thor the Younger demands.

"Huh," Darcy says, squinting at them. "You really let yourself go, dude."

"Okay," Jane says softly, concentrating, her eyes narrowed. "And how does _that_ work?"

"I – it's complicated," Thor the Elder says, evasively. Considering the amount of trouble time travel has already wrought, it might be… best he keeps the details to himself. Not that he truly understands the machine Stark and Banner created, the details of it escape him, but Jane and Selvig are easily intelligent enough to figure _something_ about it just from bare mentions. And considering what Selvig did with the Tesseract…

The Tesseract is on Earth. Hm.

"See, he has no explanation. He is lying," Thor the Younger says, viciously. "A trickster, liar, guide, whatever you are, I will not believe your lies. Lady Jane, ignore this clown, he knows not what he speaks of."

She blows out a breath. "Just, wait a moment," she says, looking at Thor the Elder. "Can you – explain this, at all? If not how you're here, then why? I mean – just looking at you two…"

Selvig brings the beers while Thor the Younger makes faces at Jane, and at Darcy, who are obviously comparing them. Thor the Elder snorts at his younger self, and then nods at Selvig. "The reasons are varied and unpleasant and involve quite a lot of death, which I would like not to relive just now," he says and breaks open the beer bottle with his bare hands. "But, needless to say, it's to save the world."

"To… save the world," Jane repeats, while Thor the Younger throws up his hands in disgust.

"Nay," Thor the Elder says and lifts the bottle. "The universe."

"This is ludicrous," Thor the Younger says and then steps up to him, taking him by the lapels of his robe and pulling – or trying to pull – Elder Thor up and to face him. He fails at it, so, instead, he leans down and attempts to be threatening. "You will answer me now, what is this game you are playing? By your eyes alone I can see you bear a false image of me – show me the truth!"

Thor the Elder takes a drink. He was so energetic. Just – looking at him is exhausting now. "You are privileged in your arrogance and confidence," he says softly. "Not knowing yet the losses you are to face and the mistakes you will make. Enjoy these moments, my younger self – for they will not return to you, not ever."

It is sincere enough to rattle the younger man, enough to make him release the Elder and step back. Unsettled, he squeezes his hands into fists and then releases, stepping back. "I'm hungry," Thor the Younger says and turns to Jane. "Is there food to be had?"

"Y-yeah," she says, looking at Thor the Elder uncomfortably. "Yeah, there's a diner just across the street. I'll – I'll show you. Come on. Erik -"

"I'll stay here," Selvig agrees, waving a hand and looking at Thor the Elder. "I'll cover this one."

"I'm coming with," Darcy says.

Thor the Elder watches them go, sipping his beer and sighing as the door closes behind them. "Shouldn't have said anything," he mutters. "I'm – really bad at this."

"At time travel?" Selvig asks. "Or keeping secrets?"

"Both," Thor the Elder admits and looks at him. "You get mind controlled by my brother to create an alien portal, by the way. Watch out for that."

Selvig looks a little taken aback. "I'll – watch out for that, yes. Thank you for the warning?"

Thor nods and sinks deeper in his chair, taking another swig. It's not terribly good beer. "I should make a call," he murmurs.

"Okay," Selvig says agreeably, if somewhat warily, opening a bottle of beer for himself as well, despite the hour. "Who do you want to call?"

What Thor meant was a call, as in _decision_ – he should make a call about what he would do next, and then go with that. But now that Selvig mentions it… Thor should totally make a phone call. He should call somebody – the Avengers. Are the Avengers a thing yet? He's pretty sure Stark had some history before Avengers. Banner was – probably not in a position to help. And SHIELD is not… not a good call.

"I should call Tony Stark," Thor says.

Selvig's eyebrows shoot up at that. "I – see," he says slowly. "Tony Stark, huh. Good friends?"

"Not really – kind of. Co-workers," Thor says, making a face. Thinking about Stark makes him think about Vision and all that came with him and all that was lost with him and – it's just not a pleasant trail of thought. Never mind Thanos… "Or we used to be – he retired, and I also retired, there was… a lot of tiring. We were tired. More so than the others – I suppose in our ways we gave up," Thor shakes his head and lifts the beer bottle again. "Should have listened to him more."

Selvig watches him consideringly. "Right," he says and takes out his phone. "Well, if you know his number…"

He says it like it's a dare, holding the phone out to him. Joke's on him, however. Thor totally has Stark's number.

* * *

In the meanwhile in Malibu, Tony Stark is watching the worst home movies made by man, in his humble opinion. For a showman, Howard Stark _wasn't_ much of a showman, and it shows on the screen, in the deleted bits of his propaganda commercials. Weird, though – Tony had never seen these particular ones on the best-of-Howard-Stark reels, which at Stark Industries tended to include… all the bits of Howard Stark.

_This is the key to the future,_ Howard says, and it sounds new to Tony's ears. None of these things were actually ever published, he doesn't think. Which, considering how bad they are and the fact that Howard's city of the future was never actually built in reality, isn't surprising.

"Sir," JARVIS says, finally back online after all the SHIELD tinkering. "There is a call for you."

"I'm getting calls?" Tony asks wryly. "I thought I was on radio silence and house arrest."

"You are indeed, sir – for some reason SHIELD is letting this one through," JARVIS answers, wryly. "They are wiretapping the call, however."

Tony scoffs and reaches for his glass of chlorophyll, considering not answering it. The whole thing grates on him – all the worse because he has a feeling that Fury _got_ something for him, that Fury is doing this for a reason. There's something here, some clue Tony is not seeing yet but he can almost _taste_ it, and this whole damn house arrest thing bugs him all the worse for having some kind of _point_. Now this?

Fuck it. He's dying of Palladium poisoning and super secret spy agency decided to ground him. What the hell. "Put it through," Tony says, reaching for his phone. "See if you can scramble it for our good boys and girls at SHIELD."

"I will attempt an encryption. Would you like a trace as well?"

"Please," Tony agrees and lifts the phone to his ear just as JARVIS connects him to the call. "You have reached the Stark house renovations and demolitions," he says, glancing around the destroyed living room. "How may I help you?"

"Stark?" a voice he doesn't know asks. "Stark, is – is that you?"

Tony frowns. Definitely sounds like the guy knows him, though he has no idea who they are. "Yeah, this is me – who is this?"

"Uh," the guy on the other end answers. "Okay, this is going to sound crazy, but bear with me. I'm an alien from the future? And we used to work together. In the future, I mean, we were coworkers."

For a moment Tony thinks of nothing. Then he says, "What?"

There's a sound on the other end. It sounds like a burp. "Do you know the Avengers Initiative?"

Tony stares at nothing for a moment and then sighs, running a hand over his face. "Jesus Christ," he murmurs and then asks again, "What do you want?"

"Well, you see – in 2023 you will build a time machine using the Quantum Realm, it's very complicated, couldn't begin to explain it over the phone," the guy on the phone says. "And we, the Avengers, that was us, used it to – well, undo something that happened five years prior. And there were some complications – well, it doesn't matter. The point is that I am from the future, we used to work together – and I need you help."

Tony sighs. Seriously, _what_. "Right, okay, I dig it," he says, looking up to the frozen image of his father on the screen, before glancing towards another screen. According to JARVIS' trace, the call is coming from Puente Antiguo, New Mexico. "It's an interesting approach, I gotta hand it to you, whatever this is," he says. "But man, I'm already dying here, I don't have any more time for mind games – can I just deal with the last thing Fury dropped in my lap before you start on the next thing?"

"Wait, what?" the guy on the other end asks. "No, wait, dying?"

"Yeah, so, like… get back to me in a month if I'm still around with – whatever this is, or attend my funeral, one or the other," Tony says. "I got my hands full here, so I'm just going to –"

"Wait, wait, wait – I'm not – wait," the guy on the other end says, and it's the tone of voice that makes Tony actually hesitate before ending the call – the guy sound sincerely distressed. "Why are you dying?"

Tony lets his hand drop, and it dawns on him that the only people who know are SHIELD agents, his poor long suffering AI, and him. Even Rhodey and Pepper don't know. "Well, I got this thing in my chest," he says, feeling suddenly very tired of the whole thing.

"The Arc Reactor, yes, a most marvellous contraption – "

"And it's poisoning me with heavy metal," Tony continues, frowning a little. "Palladium, to be exact. So yeah. _Dying_."

"Oh. Oh, that's – that's terrible," the voice on the phone says, and it sounds sincere. Even a bit tearful. "I didn't know – but you can fix it, right? You can fix it, you can fix anything."

Jesus fucking _Christ_. "I don't know if I can," Tony admits, hanging his head. He can't even remember when someone said something to him so full of _trust_. What the hell. Who is this guy? He talks like he _knows_ Tony – and believes in him. Who the hell still believes in him at this stage? He doesn't even believe in himself, and he's his own biggest fan. "I tried everything, every single element I know, every single permutation and alloy and… there is just no way."

"Well, you must figure it out somehow," the voice says, not even with faith or belief – just confidence. "Seeing as you did, and you survived, and lived to 2023, so you must have, yes? So you will figure it out."

Tony makes a face at that. "Oh really," he says with some humour. "How was my hair? Balding yet?"

"Oh, no, you had a full head of hair. I found the silver suited you. Very refined," the voice says, perfectly earnest.

Tony snorts at that and looks up. "Wouldn't that be a sight," he murmurs, looking at the TV screen, at his father's face. Full head of hair, but in silver, huh? He thinks he could rock it. Okay, he thinks, and shuts down the projector. "What was it you needed help with, again?"


	3. Chapter 3

Midgardian food is not half bad. The _ diner _ Lady Jane takes him to could use more ale in their repertoire, but according to Jane, in Midgard it is customary to drink at a later hour, not this early in the day. What the shapeshifter is doing is not commonplace – nor is it consisted particularly polite or civilized. And neither is apparently the smashing of crockery. Instead of eliciting a joyous, celebratory response, it makes everyone frightened.

In that the shapeshifter might be correct – customs of Midgard might have indeed changed in the last thousand or so years. Thor does not much enjoy ascribing any kind of credit to the false-faced creature, but he decides to take heed of his warnings nonetheless. Wisdom can be wise, even coming from a witless source, and a true king knows to respect it as such. No matter how it grates.

"You still don't believe he's real?" Jane asks, watching him make his way through a plate of what she calls pancakes.

"Obviously he is not," Thor agrees. "The true nature of his existence yet escapes me, but likely he's sent here as a lesson and a warning – of what my fate might end up being, should I not need my father's lessons. He is my flaws, personified. As such, he cannot be trusted."

Lady Jane hums, leaning her cheek to her palm. "And what – what if you're wrong, what if he isn't – that? He seems pretty real to me."

"His stench is real too," Darcy agrees and looks at his food. "Wonder how much he eats when your can put away this much and still be so cut."

"I am not injured," Thor says, giving her a puzzled look.

"I mean ripped. Shredded?" Darcy says and then rolls her eyes at his confusion. "You're fit and muscular and belong in a bodybuilding magazine."

"I see," Thor answers, though he does not. Obviously the languages and culture of Midgard have changed a great deal. "In either case, smells are also conjurable by magic, so how real he seems is inconsequential. He is not."

Thor is still not entirely convinced it's not Loki under that illusion. His brother would enjoy the act of playing a disgraced version of Thor immensely.

"Okay – let's set the matter of the other guy aside for now," Jane says, shaking her head. "Why are you here, on Earth?"

"Because of a grave misunderstanding," Thor says, though he is not so sure now. His father had cast him out in anger and, Thor has to face it, disappointment. That could be blamed on a lapse in judgement, old man acting before thinking. But the shapeshifter – that is far more deliberate.

"What was the misunderstanding about?" Jane asks, watching him with great interest.

Thor presses his lips together. "It is not of your concern," he says and leans back. "My father sent me here to learn a lesson, to go on a quest, and that I will do. I will master his challenges, prove myself – _ worthy_," he almost winces there, Odin's shout still echoing in his ears. "And then I will return to my rightful place in Asgard."

"Uh-huh," Jane says. "And uh, what is that?"

"I am the Crown Prince of Asgard – my rightful place… is at the throne," Thor says and lifts his cup of the sweet Midgardian beverage they had gotten him. "And once I have faced my father's challenges and trials, that is where I will be."

The two women stare at him, and it dawns on him that it's not amazement or admiration on their faces. No, he's quite certain they doubt his sanity.

Thor takes a drink, deciding not to be offended. They are only humans, and they know little of the matters and quests of gods. He would prove them wrong. Them and the shapeshifter.

"... Missing out on all the fun at the crater," a male voice says somewhere behind them, audible in the break in their conversation. "It's the damnedest thing – old Stan busted up his truck trying to pull the damn thing up. We wrapped a chain around it and everything, and he went to pull and just, snap, the whole truck bed came off."

"Really?" the serving wench asks, amazed. "Didn't he just buy that truck?"

"Oh yeah, not a scratch on it – except for the truck bed, which went flying off. Gonna be a bitch to repair, lemme tell you that…"

"And the thing didn't budge?"

"Not even a twitch. It's the weirdest thing, it looks like you can just grab it by the handle and lift it, but no. It's like it's attached to a bedrock or something, and we know it ain't…"

Thor lowers his cup.

"I was thinking of getting the tractor," another man says. "Swear that would've done the trick, but then the feds showed up – something about radiation. This suit said it was a satellite, but that's some horseshit if I ever heard…"

Jane turns around, also listening. "I'm sorry – did you say satellite?"

The men give her a look, appreciative, and Thor stands up. "Where is this crater?" he asks before they can answer her.

"We, about fifty miles west of here?" one of the men says. "But I wouldn't waste my time – looked like they were bringing the whole damn army there the last we saw –"

Thor is already heading outside, his mind set and his eyes intent – his first challenge is here. And the the shapeshifter…

It's sitting outside of Jane's place of residence, a metal tube in hand.

"Thor, wait – where are you going?!" Jane calls out after him and follows him out even as Thor stops to glare at the shapeshifter.

"What are you doing?" He demands. "And what is that on your face?"

"Sunglasses," the shapeshifter says. "And I am waiting on a friend of mine, he's on his way. What are you doing?"

Thor narrows his eyes. "The Allfather has cast Mjölnir to Midgard, I am going to go and claim it and prove my worth."

"Mewmew – what's Mewmew?" Darcy asks, curious.

"You mean the satellite?" Jane asks, sounding astonished.

"It is not what they say – it is a weapon," Thor says. "My weapon, and none can lift it but I."

"Oh, yeah – that," the fat slob says and scratches at his beard. "You can't lift it either, yet."

Thor narrows his eyes. "What did you say?"

"Odin took your title, your armour, your power and claimed you unworthy, remember?" the shapeshifter says and looks at him over the top edge of his sunglasses. "That means you can't lift the hammer anymore. You've been deemed unworthy, so…"

Thor grits his teeth. "Allfather said that, _ yes, _and once I go there and claim what's mine, I will prove that I am, indeed, worthy. And none of your words can prove otherwise, trickster."

The shapeshifter eyes him for a moment and then takes a noisy drink from his tube – apparently it holds a beverage. Beer, likely.

"Well, if you're worthy," he says. "Call Mjölnir to you. You should be able to, right?"

It hits like a dagger to his gut, deep and vicious. Thor's fingers curl and he knows, he cannot ignore this, cannot pretend he did not hear it, did not understand. He thought he would go there, face whatever challenge lay in wait and prove himself in the act… and claim Mjölnir at the end as his prize.

But now he's being challenged.

So, with a feeling of roiling uncertainly in his gut, Thor holds his hand out and to westward direction and with all his might and will, he _ calls. _

And nothing happens, not for a minute, not for two – and distance of fifty miles is not nearly long enough for three.

"Ha, told you so," the slovenly mess of a false image says and takes another drink. "You go there, and it will be the exact same thing. But by all means, go. Have fun."

Thor snaps, "I would like to see you do better!" he says. "The hammer is cloistered in a set of trials, of course it will not come when called upon – it has to be earned!"

"Well, you're partially right, I'll give you that," the shapeshifter agrees and belches. Then he leans back, his expression hidden behind the black sunglasses. "Hmm."

Then, to Thor's incredulous horror, he actually holds up his hand, also towards the west.

Again, nothing happens.

"Maybe it's like a weird alien ritual," Darcy murmurs. "Hold your hand out to the –

There's a sharp sound, a boom in the distance, and Thor knows it, he knows it in his bones. The barrier of the speed of sound, breaking.

And then Mjölnir smacks firmly in the shapeshifter's meaty palm.

For a moment, Thor cannot breathe. The fake version of him looks at the hammer and then lets out an incredulous burst of laughter. "I'm still worthy!" he cries joyously. "I'm still worthy."

Several things happen all at once then.

Jane and Darcy gasp in shock. Selvig, who was just coming out with a pair of glasses, drops the glasses and they shatter on the ground. There's a strange roar of fire in the air, and a man in gold and red armour lands on the street with a jet of flame from his boots. Couple of black Midgardian vehicles come to a screeching halt in the street beside them.

And Thor launched himself at the fake, fists first, to absolutely no avail. His fist lands, and it barely makes the man's hair twitch. He'd not even certain the fake notices!

"What?" a mechanical voice asks. "The hell?"

"What?" Jane asks. "Iron Man?"

"Feds!" Darcy calls.

"Mr. Stark? What are you doing here – you're supposed be in Malibu – under house arrest."

"Well, sometimes you get an invitation you just can't refuse –

"Give me that!" Thor growls at the shapeshifter, who is grinning like a lunatic at Mjölnir in his hand. "That hammer is mine, give it to me!"

The shapeshifter laughs again, and spins the hammer in hand, turning it handle outwards. "Here," he says. "Take it."

Thor takes the hammer and the hammer takes him to the ground.

It silences everyone around them – they all stop to stare.

"See?" the fake says as Thor kneels on the ground, too shocked to let go of the hammer – which refuses to budge now that it has hit the floor. "Not worthy."

"No," Thor whispers, wretched, and the shapeshifter stands.

"Stark! Son of Coul! This is most fortuitous!" he says and salutes them with his beer. "Do I have _ tales _ to tell you."

* * *

Jane has no idea what's going on anymore. Honestly, she's not sure she did before either. One moment all her dreams are coming true, and not only does she witness, with her own two eyes, a real life Einstein-Rosen Bridge event, but there's a proof and evidence of so much more, if only she could get the two Thors to talk straight.

Now, there's a flying hammer, Tony Stark is in her workplace, in armour, and the feds are quarantining everything – including her research!

"You are not sending me away!" she snaps. "This is my office, this is my work –"

"Doctor Foster, I'm sorry, but your work is being classified," Agent Coulson says, in between trying to get the situation between Stark and the Thors under control.

"And you're what, brothers?" Stark asks, pointing between the two.

"No, no. I am Thor, God of Thunder, son of Odin," the older Thor says. "And this," he motions to the still shellshocked younger Thor, "is me, twelve years ago. Only, it's now for him – he's the Thor of this time, and I'm Thor of the future."

Stark looks between them. "Gotta say, buddy, you really let yourself go," he says.

"That's what I said!" Darcy calls.

"He is a shapeshifter and a fool," the younger Thor says, sullen, not looking up from where he's staring through the glass door at the hammer, still sitting on the pavement, being secured by the feds.

"Well, I am what you would call depressed af," the older Thor says very sincerely.

Stark makes a face. "Do I even want to know – _ af_?"

"_As fuck,_" older Thor and Darcy answer together.

"Oh. That sounds – rough."

"Doctor Foster, _ please,_" Coulson says and motions to the other feds, "Remove the civilians from the perimeter –"

"You don't need to do that," older Thor says, reaching for another can of beer. "I mean, I already told them probably too much, and anyway, the whole world is going to know sooner or later, and besides – Jane is one of the few people on Earth who understands the science."

Coulson hesitates, and in that gap Jane pushes though. "So it's really true, you're really from the future – and an alien – and you use wormholes to travel?"

"Yes, yes and… yes," older Thor agrees and gives her a distracted grin. "Isn't she just so smart?"

"I know she's smart, I've read some of her work," Tony Stark agrees, glancing at her and then away. He looks like shit, with hair plastered on his forehead by feverish sweat and his eyes bloodshot and swollen. "I've got something of a deadline here, though, so can we just pick up the pace – to the point where you explain everything?"

Coulson looks between them and then seems to give up on trying to split the party up and instead calls to his headset, "Secure the perimeter, no one in or out."

"Right!" the older Thor says and waves his can. "Maybe everyone would like to take a seat, this is a bit of a long story, covering over a decade of events and the greatest threat to all life in the universe, so get your drinks, your snacks, bring me some too, and we'll begin."

Only Darcy sits down, grabbing her phone and holding it up to film while everyone else stays where they are.

"Okay," older Thor says, cheerfully, and takes a swig. "To begin with, hello to all, I'm Thor, Son of Thunder, God of Odin – I come from a realm called Asgard –"

"God of Thunder, Son of Odin," the younger Thor growls.

"Yes, that, thank you," Older Thor agrees. "Anyway, Asgard and Midgard – that's you, Earth, Midgard is what we call Earth – are part of a set of realms called the Nine Realms, which are converged together by a natural phenomena called the Convergence, which every now and then opens portals between these nine realms – your Einstein-Rosen bridges – but they are not the only habitable or inhabited realms in the galaxy, oh no," he continues somewhat theatrically. "There are so many, you wouldn't believe. What Jane is tracking here is the early effects of the Convergence – it will be in full swing in like… a couple of years."

"And that's what you're here to warn us about?" Stark asks, arching his brows. "This... Convergence… thing?"

"No, no, that's small potatoes," older Thor says, waving a hand. He takes another swig of his beer and belches. "That's just the basics, the how the universe works bit. The reason I'm here is because – because of the Infinity Stones. And – and Thanos."

And then the explanation goes from maybe-possible-science to complete space-magic and Jane has to sit down.

"... And that's the gist of the Stones," older Thor continues, swaying a little. He's got the look and feel of a man doing a thesis he's not prepared for but is going to get through it come hell or high water, even though there are thousands of places he'd rather be. Like a stoner frat boy who took all the wrong courses at college and then had to make the tuition worth it in the end despite having learned only half of the material, if even that.

"SHIELD has one of them," older Thor continues, making Stark look up sharply. "They got the Space Stone."

"No, we don't," Coulson says quickly, and with a bit of alarm. "I think we'd know if we had something like that, and I assure you, we don't."

"Oh, but you do. You just call or something else, see?" older Thor says, pointing his beer can at him. "You call it the Tesseract."

Coulson hesitates, just for a split of a second, making Stark turn his head slowly towards him, and it's at that point Jane comes to the horrifying conclusion that it's _ all real. _

"Agent?" Stark asks.

Coulson says nothing, his face going completely impassive.

Older Thor waves a hand. "You'll see eventually. SHIELD starts poking at it after all this is over, knocking on that big cosmic door – because it's the Space Stone, you know – and on the other side there is Thanos, who is looking for the Stones. And he sends my brother through, and he summons an alien army and they invade Earth."

"What?" 

"Your _ brother_?"

"Invasion?"

"Loki would never do such a thing!" the younger Thor snarls, whirling around. "You are a liar and a _ trickster,_ Loki would never – why would he even care about Midgard and why would he do this Thanos' bidding?"

Older Thor looks down at his beer and there's a visible quiver to his lip, and his eyes glimmer wetly. Younger Thor broke his stride – that's the worst thing to happen during a presentation, someone distracts you and you end up actually thinking about what you're saying instead of just conveying information.

"I, uh," the older Thor coughs and then says very quickly, "I figure it's because after Loki fell off the rainbow bridge, Thanos found him in-between spaces, and tortured him until he did." Then he drains the rest of his can and crumbles it in his hand to cover the fact that he's on the verge of tears now.

There's a moment of uncomfortable, confused silence. Even Stark looks a little taken aback. "I take that doesn't mean what it sounds like," he murmurs.

"Loki is safe in Asgard," younger Thor says uncertainly. "He hasn't fallen off the rainbow bridge."

"Not yet – he did, where I came from. Happens in a couple of days, after he fails to destroy Jotunheim and we fight on the bridge," older Thor says, his voice going high and reedy, and drags in a rattling breath. "And then Thanos kills him six years later, along with half of what's left of Asgard and – and – I think I need to take a break now, I'm –"

"Hey, hey, buddy," Stark says with alarm and steps closer while the older Thor quivers, pulling at his own hair. "Hey, it's okay – just take a breath, okay –"

"Mr. Stark," Coulson says warningly, taking half a step closer.

"Zip it, Agent, Avengers business here," Stark says, manoeuvring the older Thor to Jane's couch and patting his shoulders. "Just breathe evenly, Lebowski, you're having a panic attack – just breathe, we don't want you hyperventilating –"

"I know, I know, I know –" older Thor answers, his voice thin and cracking. "I know –"

Jane looks to the younger Thor, who is staring at the older one with a look of dawning realisation. Then she looks at Darcy, who is filming the whole thing on her phone; Iron Man comforting a big alien _ god, _ apparently, and the god's younger self's mounting horror, and all the secret agents around them just watching...

Then Jane looks at Erik. "I'm not going to get to publish my research, am I?" 

Erik sighs, and gets up. "I'll… go see if we have any beers left."


	4. Chapter 4

Loki had dreamed of this moment. He had dreamed of it as two, as three, even as four separate moments and he had dreamed of it as one unified moment of victory, vivid in its glory and justification.

Thor Odinson, his arrogance brought to light and justly answered to, forced to face his flaws. It was even better than Loki had ever imagined, at that – he'd foreseen punishment, he'd wished for humiliation, he had not imagined banishment to a lesser realm. What a victory.

Odin Allfather, his sins similarly highlighted, crumbling under them – now sunken to Odinsleep and unable to provide his oh so wise but ultimately false wisdoms.

Himself, standing guileless and blameless, as all else fall to their own faults. Him, alone, with Thor gone, alone with his proud friends and free at last of Thor's light and the mighty shadow it cast.

And himself on the throne of Asgard, justly and proudly, Gungnir in hand… like it was always meant to be.

He hadn't imagined the throne room so empty.

He hadn't imagined Thor's friends, their friends, so quickly turning their backs on him. Or, well, he _ had,_ but he'd hoped otherwise – he'd thought these were friends shared, ones he had bonds of his own with, but it proved not so. With Thor gone, none of them stayed.

He hadn't imagined the visceral, gut-wrenching panic he felt when Odin fell, the fear, the horror, the doubt. Did he cause this, did he finally wear on Odin's strength too much, did he… at that moment, despite all he now knew, he'd been a son. A boy. A _ child _ whose father collapsed. What an uneasy feeling.

And when he'd imagined Thor shamed, yes, he'd imagined him crying, oh Allfathers, he imagined it _ vividly _ in his most bitter moments when he himself could not bite back the grief and anger at whatever slight Thor had so unthinkingly aimed his way, but this…

This is not what he imagined.

There is humiliation – and then there is _ this_.

"I'm alright, I'm alright," the personage Loki had only moments before thought of as a delightfully _ wretched _ reflection of all of Thor's faults, says, with droplets still in his lashes. "I'm good, I'm good, I'm good."

"You're good, big guy, you're good, just breathe," the Midgardian Knight says, armoured hands on Elder Thor's shoulders. "Just take your time, it's not like anyone is dying right now –"

"Where is this Thanos now?" Younger Thor demands to know. "If he is such a threat, then we must gather a company and deal with him now, once and for all, and kill him before he becomes even bigger one."

"I don't know where he is – somewhere destroying worlds," Elder Thor says and sniffles, rubbing at his nose. "And I mean – I did, I killed him, took his big fat head right off, that was me – that was me –" his voice is rising to a high, reedy pitch again.

"Well, that's great, if you killed him then so can I!" Younger Thor says. "And better, for I am fit to fight. Now where is he and how do I slay him?"

The Elder Thor lets out a high pitched laugh at that.

"Okay, okay, putting on the breaks now," the Midgardian Knight says and sits down beside the fat older version of Thor, arm on his shoulder. "Time out guys, give it, like, five minutes at least –"

The younger Thor steps forward. "Metal man, we must learn what he knows."

"Point Break, give yourself some slack here, alright?" the armoured man says pointedly. "It's recess now, go play hoops or something."

"Who are you to command a Son of Odin?"

"I'm the one he_ called, _ and that doesn't happen every day, if you'd believe it, so I'm going to do this teamwork thing right and tell you to just back off, okay, just back off a little."

"Thor – maybe just – give him a little space," one of the human women says. "Come on, just give him a moment."

Loki ignores them, his eyes on Elder Thor. He's a fat, slovenly mess, it does seem like has neither bathed nor changed his clothes in days, and likely his hair has not seen a brush in weeks. He's the type of disgrace Loki had so longed to see Thor as, all of his gilded glory gone. A weakened, miserable man, none of his call to greatness to be seen.

The sight makes his blood turn to ice.

"What happened to you, Brother?" he murmurs, crouching in front of him to see his downturned face. "How did you come to this?"

He is invisible, shrouded not only in his own magic but in Odinforce through Gungnir's might, and as such none can see him or perceive him but those he wills so. Thor does not either, neither the younger nor the older, who sniffles and tries to pull himself together as around him people give him space. All but the Knight.

The Knight rubs at Elder Thor's shoulder, saying, "There you go, big guy, there you go."

"I'm fine, I'm – I'm the strongest Avenger," Elder Thor says and lets out a choked breath. "I can do this. I have to do this. I can do it."

"Yeah, you can," the bearded Knight agrees, watching him warily. "But what say you we break it down in chunks, track it from the beginning, in bits – not as one big thing of loss and horror, cuz it looks like there's a lot of that –"

"Yeah, yeah, I can do that – bits, from the start," Elder Thor says and rubs at his eyes. "I – I want a drink, to start with."

"You and me both, buddy, – hey, Agent, can you make your useless people less so and have someone fetch us something to drink?" the Knight asks, raising his voice. "Sooner rather than later, please."

The man he looks at gives him an unimpressed expression, so though the Knight talks with a command of a lord he doesn't seem to garner the respect of one. Then the man in black nods to another man, who leaves the building, heading out.

Loki looks between Elder Thor and the Knight on whom he's leaning. Back in Asgard things balance on a precipice, with Odin asleep and Thor gone, none know what is to follow. And how true that seems to be, now. Behind his back, Thor's friends now scheme to tamper with Thor's punishment, as though they know better – they mean to seek a way to Midgard, to aid him. Impatient louts, the lot of them.

And no, Loki is not one of them, nor is he like them. He is patient.

He can wait and see what would come of this.

* * *

Tony's chest aches, and for once it's not because of all the metal and technology embedded in it. He's never been good at dealing with crying people, especially not crying people who seem for some reason expect him to do something about it. Not that he thinks Thor is specifically expecting it – but there's like this space around the guy, this teammate-shaped hole, and Tony finds he fits it pretty well.

Never had that before – a teammate. It's kind of – terrifying actually. Especially with everything going on. It's distracting.

Which is good, he could use a distraction.

"Mr. Stark, if I might remind you, you have work to do in Malibu," Coulson says, while hauling a full case of beer in and setting it down on the floor in front of Thor.

"It'll keep," Tony says and grabs a couple of bottles, holding one to Thor who opens it without a pause. He just – opens the bottle with his bare hands. Nice. "We have time."

As it is, Thor is his best lead now. Not only did he know Tony in the future and thus might know how he solves the arc reactor issue – because he must've, to not be_ dead – _ but he's also an alien, apparently. With wormhole technology.

Chances of Thor knowing elements not yet discovered on Earth are pretty good – and Tony has tried all the elements on Earth. He's at a dead end, and Thor has a pickaxe.

Thor can also drain a beer bottle empty in like four seconds, which is impressive. Even little Thor looks at him with brows arched.

"Good?" Tony asks, opening his bottle by fitting the cap between plates of his glove and twisting.

"Better," Thor says and reaches for another bottle.

"Right," Little Thor says in tones of decision and Tony send him a warning look. He harrumphs. "Give me one of those," little Thor says and goes to get a bottle too.

Yeah, Tony thinks. This is healthy. Big Thor does look a little steadier, though, so... "Right, so, back to the –" he says and then looks up as Coulson plucks the bottle from his hands. "Hey." 

Coulson gives him a look, handing the opened bottle to little Thor and handing Tony a flask as a replacement. Just by the smear by the cap, Tony can tell it's chlorophyll.

"You're carrying this stuff on you?" he asks dubiously. "You're seriously a supernanny, are you – do you carry wet wipes too?"

"Why – do you need one?"

Tony takes a mutinous drink. "Yeah," he says, only half on a dare. He's running a fever now, and the armour's AC is only working at half power because he's also_ cold. _ So he's hot and cold and sweating and also not getting out of the armour anytime soon without an array to dismantle it. "I'd love a wet wipe, actually."

Coulson actually gets him one. Unbelievable.

Tony wipes around his burning eyes and the itching patch of Palladium spread on his neck and then turns to Thor.

"You look terrible," big Thor says, watching him while little Thor drinks Tony's beer, eyeballing them both.

"Thanks, buddy, really need that," Tony grins and gives him a look right back. "You're not looking so hot yourself."

Thor cranes his head. "Your neck –"

"Yeah, that's the heavy metal poisoning," Tony agrees. "Never mind that – I wanna hear about the Infinity Stone on Earth. The Tesseract. Going by the name it's a cube?"

Thor ignores him in favour of poking at his neck.

"No touchy," Tony says, but half-heartedly. Thor brushes his fingertips along the fractal pattern and makes a face. "It's fine – I mean, I fix it. I'm going to fix it. I just need to figure out how."

"I didn't know," Thor murmurs.

"Wait, you have heavy metal poisoning?" Jane Foster asks. "Mr. Stark, you should be in a hospital. Do you know the source?"

"Oh yeah," Tony says and taps the reactor window on his chest plate. "I have a nuclear reactor in my chest."

"... What?" she asks flatly.

"Not like a fusion reactor – _ arc _ reactor. It's fine – it's bombarding the surrounding tissue with trace amounts of palladium, but I'm _ fine _ really," Tony says and waves a hand at her dawning horror. "Or I will be, which I know, because this guy says so, and I've only known him for like an hour but I already trust him with my life, so…"

Thor's expression twists and he smiles tearfully. "I trust you with my life too, Stark," he says with all the fondness of a perpetual drunk. "I do. You are the smartest Avenger, and I am the strongest."

"Must make one hell of a team then," Tony grins, patting his shoulder and trying to not freak out too badly about the idea of a team where he's the brains, because, _ Jesus_.

"This is all beside the point," the smaller Thor says, his drink finished. He looks at the empty bottle, hefts it in his hand, and then gently places it back in the case. "What will happen? What will happen to Asgard – to Loki? What is –"

"Dude, seriously?" Tony asks with disbelief. "When he was just calming down?"

"If I don't know about it, I cannot do anything about it either, no?" little Thor asks and gives him a grim smile. "What we need to do is to stop these horrors from coming to pass, and we cannot do that if we don't know what is to come."

Well… he's not wrong. "Maybe just give it a minute first?" Tony asks warily.

"No, no, I'm good now, I'm –" big Thor draws a rattling breath. "I'm good now."

"You sure?"

Big Thor takes a drink and nods. "What will happen," he says and belches. "Well. I don't really know the details, I was here, obviously," he says and points the bottle at little Thor. "So I missed what was going on back home, all the drama and all that. But I figure at this point Odin Allfather has gone into Odinsleep, and Loki –" he falters a little there. "Well, Loki has taken the throne."

"What?" little Thor asks, stilling in the act of grabbing another beer. "_Loki_?"

"Well, yes," big Thor says and takes another bracing drink, obviously trying to bolster himself with as much of it as he can take. And apparently he can take a lot, because he's already going for another bottle. "Father is in Odinsleep, Mother is – is tending to him and I'm here – _ you _ are here. So Loki takes over as regent."

Little Thor looks amazed, and so is Tony, though for another reason. He'd done a quick research on Thor and Asgard and came up with Norse mythology and whatnot, it was wild – hearing Thor talk about it like it's everyday stuff is even wilder.

Big Thor continues, talking faster. "And then Loki let the Frost Giants into Asgard and killed King Laufey – that's his bio dad, by the way – and then the Warriors Three and Lady Sif came to Earth, actually that might've been before – anyway, Loki sent a Destroyer to harass me, and I proved myself worthy by trying to sacrifice myself for this realm and got my powers back, and then Loki tried to destroy Jotunheim with the Bifrost and I fought him and broke the Bifrost with my hammer – specifically that hammer over there, the Mjölnir – and then we fought and Loki fell."

He stops there, breathing hard, and takes another drink.

"This is blowing my mind," Tony says, shaking his head. It has nothing to do with what he actually wants to know about, granted, he'd very much like to know more about alien elements and the Tesseract and – if SHIELD had it, then his father might've studied it, and if he did and that's where he got the original concept for the arc reactor…

There was a sketch of a Tesseract – the bare bones of one – in his dad's journals, wasn't there?

Tony clears his throat. "So, what are the Frost Giants?"

"Old enemy of Asgard, we were at war with them some thousand years ago," Big Thor says and hums. "In hindsight, I think we might have been the offenders in that war…"

In the meantime, little Thor sits down with a confused look on his face. "Sacrifice?" he asks. "That's how I prove myself worthy?"

"You prove yourself worthy by _ being worthy_," big Thor says and snorts. "Is that the only thing you heard?"

"No," little Thor says, defensive. "I simply don't believe the rest. Loki letting the Frost Giants into Asgard, that's preposterous."

"Ha, shows what you know. Remember the time he turned into a snake?" big Thor asks, which makes the little one scowl, and then looks around. "Any other questions?"

"I have a question!" the girl with Foster says, putting up her hand – on her other she has a phone, camera aimed at them. "Bio dad? So, he's what, stepbrother – or adopted? Changeling?"

Tony gives her an arched look at that. She looks back, unrepentant.

Little Thor looks up. "What is she talking about – what is a _ bio dad? _"

"Biological father," big Thor answers, waving a hand. "Loki is Laufey's son… well, biologically speaking."

"So, adopted then?" the girl asks.

"Huh," Tony says. "Gods do adoption. That's cool."

"What?" little Thor asks and shakes his head. "No, that can't be, that would make Loki –"

"A _ Frost Giant_?" 

* * *

Thor chokes on nothing. It's – not the most dignified thing he's ever done. But that voice – it steals his breath and then he inhales something that isn't breath, and then he's coughing and dry heaving and his vision is going blurry and he can't breathe, he can't –

Because there is Loki, standing in the middle of the group in his armour and horns, and he's looking just like Thor remembers him, but also worse and better and _ worse – _

"So you know – you've known all these years," Loki is saying in the imperious, self-righteous voice of his, the one he uses when he's feeling justified angst. "Did you rejoice then, when I fell – when I died? Did you and Odin Allfather drink to my defeat –"

Thor can't breathe –

"There's an intruder in the perimeter –" Son of Coul speaks to a radio.

"Jesus, is there no one in this damn room who doesn't know how to _ not poke at obvious glaring traumas – _" Stark demands. "Also what the fuck –"

"Brother, where did you come from – when did you get here?" The younger Thor asks, sounding very distant.

"Well?" Loki demands. "What have you to say, you fat oaf?"

Blindly, Thor struggles to his feet. He almost stumbles on the beer case, knocking it aside in this way to Loki. Loki stands his ground, glaring – he has a knife in his hand.

Thor doesn't care. "Loki," he breathes and reaches shaking hands to him. "Brother."

He expects him to be an illusion, and so when his fingers brush through empty air, it's not as big of a surprise or a letdown as it might have been. Loki is always making illusions. But that he is around to make them at all, that is – that is –

"You're here," Thor says. Not exactly there, maybe, but _ here._ In existence. On Earth or on Asgard, one or the other, it doesn't matter because either way – "You are _ alive."_

Loki snarls something at him, but Thor can't hear it through the blood coursing in his ears or see it through the tears. He thinks he's laughing, a giddy, deep-bellied laugh of utter disbelieving joy. He's here – he's alive.

Thor tries to hug an illusion because it's the next best thing to the real thing, except it's not real and his hands go through it, his arms go through it, his whole body goes through it and he stumbles, still laughing and still crying and not caring a bit, because it's a trick but it's _ Loki's trick _ – and how much he would've given to be tricked by Loki, one last time.

So he stumbles, happily welcoming the indignity of it – until arms catch him, and there is the real Loki, in more casual garb now, looking at him with the puzzled alarm of a man who has never understood the feelings of others – especially not when they were for him.

"Thor," he says, confused and hurt.

Thor takes his face between his hands – Allfathers, Loki is so skinny – and smiles and laughs and rejoices.

"Oh, you mourned for me," Loki says, amazed and still puzzled, still hurt. "Even knowing that I-"

Oh, Thor doesn't care. "You are the worst brother, you total dickbag," Thor chokes wetly. "You told me the sun would shine on us again and it didn't._ It didn't._"

Loki blinks, startled, and Thor hugs him, holding on for dear life. His brother feels so stiff and small in his arms, like a twig – he looked so small in Thanos' hold too, his neck so thin, so vulnerable, and there was nothing Thor could do, nothing at all –

Loki pats at his back awkwardly, and Thor can feel him move his head, looking around, can feel the stares of the others, can feel the tension in the air. He can just imagine Loki looking to other Thor for help. He doesn't care.

He hangs on, and sobs like a lost child.


	5. Chapter 5

Coulson runs a hand over his forehead, trying to break the situation into controllable sections. The whole thing has… wildly gotten out of hand. What had started as a containment of potential alien artefacts from possibly space turned into containment of extraterrestrial _people_, none of whom seem particularly controllable, to potential massive security breach of _future_ knowledge, which… they have precisely no protocols for. Then Stark entered the picture, which Coulson almost feels he should have seen coming, the man is the definition of uncontrollable and the containment at Malibu was never a good idea, and now this.

"Please tell me we have at least some semblance of a secure perimeter," he says into the headset.

"Perimeter is secure, sir," Agent Johnson answers. "As much as it can be with all of you in a glass box – I don't suppose you would like to get people away from all the open windows?"

"Well, we're not concerned of snipers here, just the spread of information," Coulson says. "Just keep the civilians out of here."

"The area is secure, sir, and we're scrambling all signals. The guys at the diner aren't happy about it, though."

Coulson really doesn't care, he has bigger things to deal with. So many bigger things, and protocols aren't going to work here, not with these individuals. Stark alone is a problem, the rest? He has no profile on the aliens to work from, and how do you deal with a _time traveller_? Especially one so – difficult, as this one?

Currently the time traveller is crying into the shoulder of another alien, dark-haired man in black and green, who had just appeared from what seemed like thin air – and seemed to have some sort of illusionary powers. The dark-haired one – Loki – is forced to more or less hold the older Thor up, supporting him as he sways and stumbles. Loki does not look exactly thrilled about it. The other Thor, the younger one of their present time, is looking on awkwardly, with some level of uneasy realisation on his face – his denial is wearing off now.

Stark is still there, watching with the chlorophyll flask hanging loosely from his gloved fingers. And Jane Foster's assistant is still filming the whole thing, something Coulson has only ignored so far because they haven't got cameras set up here, and any evidence is better than no evidence.

It's starting to annoy Stark, however, who looks at the young woman with obvious distaste.

"Okay," Stark says, running a hand over his face and leaning back. "That's enough of that. JARVIS, cut her off, copy the video and delete it."

There's no sound in answer, but Coulson can imagine the AI's reply – split of a second later Darcy Lewis' phone shorts out, the screen going black. "Oh, come on!" she says. "You know how many people would pay an arm and a leg to have their tearful reunions on video?"

"You, young lady, are disrespectful," Stark answers, standing up with all the whirs and clicks and mechanical noises the Iron Man armour can make. "There's reunions and then there's gleefully filming crying people. And one of them is not cool."

"Mr. Stark, we're going to need that video," Coulson says quietly.

"Yeah, well, suck it," Stark says and moves to older Thor and his brother, who looks at him suspiciously. "Let's get the big guy sat down before he falls over, yeah?" he asks.

"Who are you?" Loki demands, and Coulson notices how his hands tighten on the older Thor's elbows, holding on a fraction tighter. It's not quite defensive, but it is reflexive.

"Tony Stark, Iron Man, how do you do, pleasure to meet you – apparently I'm his teammate in the future, a title which I take great pride in," Stark says, offering him a smile. "And Lebowski here looks like he's about to fall over."

"I'm not," the older Thor bemoans wetly and tiredly and then makes a noise not unlike blowing his nose.

Loki makes a face at that, leaning his head back with a disgusted look. "Stop _slobbering_ all over me," he says.

"_No_."

Between Loki and Stark, they get the older Thor back on the couch, though only by Loki sitting down with him too, as the big alien refuses to let go of him. Loki is getting an irritated, exasperated look now, glaring at everyone watching, while Stark grabs a wad of paper towels from the kitchen corner, offering them to Older Thor.

"Well, this is undignified," younger Thor mutters, shifting his footing and looking uncomfortable.

"Loss is like that," Selvig agrees and pats his back. "Have another beer, you'll feel better."

"I doubt it," younger Thor says and steps closer to join his elder self, Stark and Loki by the couch. He does grab a beer on his way, though, which is probably a good thing.

Coulson looks at them and then makes an executive decision. "Doctor Selvig, Doctor Foster, Miss Lewis," he says. "If you would join me over there, we can go over protocol and the _many_ confidentiality contracts you will have to sign."

"And if we don't?" Foster asks, daringly.

"Well, then you will go to jail and will never be heard from again," Coulson says calmly and gives her a bland smile.

"Ah," she says and coughs. "I see."

"Yes," Selvig agrees with a sigh. "Let's talk about confidentiality contracts, by all means."

"Can we talk about a lawsuit against Iron Man for _hacking my phone_?" Darcy Lewis asks, unhappily.

"No, but we can talk about how I am going to confiscate it in the name of global security," Coulson says and motions for them to go ahead. Lewis grimaces at him but is headed off by Foster and Selvig, who at least are figuring out the seriousness of the situation. Thank god that _someone_ does.

Coulson looks at the four by the couch and then turns his back to them – sometimes the best thing you can do in a difficult, tricky situation, is to remove disturbances, even if one of them is yourself. All he can do is hope that Stark is as good as Director Fury hopes he is, and can handle the situation. And if not…

"Get all available units here," he says into his headset. "And someone get another case of beer in here."

* * *

The older version of him, in all his disgrace and indignity, cries himself to sleep. It's even more mortifying than it by any rights should be – the man is a snotty, wet mess by the end of it, mumbling something about refugee vessels and Valkyries and Heimdall into Loki's shoulder, occasionally stopping to tell Loki he's a terrible brother – something Thor can't refute, though he also wishes to.

It's a weird dichotomy of desires, an urge to agree with the man and also to defend his brother from him, despite all he now knows and… has to accept. This man, this big, weird reflection of him, the one who he thought was a trick to throw all his perceived faults in his face… is him. And he's insulting his brother, mumbling, "the _worst liar_, totally get that from dad…"

"Excuse me, I am the _god_ of lies," Loki mutters, making a face.

"Pfft, yeah, died telling them, you asswipe…"

Thor takes a drink of the Midgardian beer and looks between Loki and his own older self, who is still hanging off of him and rubbing his face on him messily, and wonders at all the disasters and dishonours that could've let him, the Firstborn of Odin, to such a state. Death of Loki was obviously involved, death of many Asgardians – a war against this Thanos, no doubt. But he cannot imagine it. A war is a glorious affair in which there are victories to be won – this… this cannot be the result of a war.

It is a joint, silent decision to let the older version of him to wear himself out in his emotional outburst and to sleep. Loki makes no effort to derail its obvious onset, and even the Midgardian metal man seems to decide it as the best option here, patting the Elder Thor's back as he mumbles himself into a doze. Then Elder Thor is snoring heavily, and with a noise not unlike that of a purring _bilgesnipe_, finally out of the count.

"Oh my god," Stark says flatly and leans back against the backrest of the couch with a sigh. "My heart. _Jesus_."

"Ugh," Loki says – though he does not do much to try and free himself from older Thor's grasp. He looks up at Thor instead. "Brother," he says, wary.

"Brother," Thor answers, and takes another drink. "Is what he said true?"

Loki hesitates. "Which part of it?"

"Any of it," Thor says, frowning. "Father – you –"

"Father has fallen into Odinsleep," Loki admits. "It was only some hours ago. I suppose the act of casting you out wore on his strength – mother is tending to him. And, yes, I have taken over as the regent, until unforeseeable future."

Thor nods and takes another drink. The beer is terrible – he wants ale, good hearty, _sweet_ ale, this drink tastes like over fermented, rotten wheat. "And the Frost Giants?"

That deals with Loki's hesitation – it's in an instant replaced by ire, his eyes aflame with haltered. "My _kin_, you mean?" he demands. "My terrible, monstrous kin, the terrors of legend, the – "

"The attack on Asgard, Brother, did you cause it?" Thor demands, gripping the bottle tighter. "Did you?" And had he attacked Jotunheim on no other proof but that of Loki's trickery? "Why? To mock me?"

"To prove your _worth_!" Loki snaps and then goes completely still as the older Thor mumbles in his sleep, his snoring ceasing. Loki grits his teeth and draws a breath and then says quieter. "They none of them see it, and Odin is wilfully blind to it, brother, but you are arrogant, you are brash, and you do not _think_. I knew the moment there was a slightest provocation, you would fly into thoughtless action – into retaliation. You attacking Jotunheim was all the proof anyone would need, I thought, to know that you were unfit to be king."

"And you were? You, who _arranged_ the whole thing?" Thor demands. "You manipulated everyone – you manipulated me!"

"And in so doing discovered the treachery committed on me! All my life Odin has lied –"

"And that's a justification for exposing Asgard to an attack – and worse, to commit worse atrocities to Jotunheim -"

"Oh, _now_ you have sympathy for them, when before you were all about _killing every one of them_ –"

"Before I thought they were _guilty_, before I thought they were _planning an attack_, not that they were only another piece in your –"

Thor too falls quickly quiet as his older version makes a noise at his tone, shifting in his sleep.

"Okay," Stark the Metal Man says slowly, holding a hand to them. "Let's just take a deep breath and not shout for a bit, okay? I mean, I get there are some high emotions running here, some things have happened –"

"You know nothing –" Thor snaps at him.

"But I'm also thinking what this guy knows might trump whatever's going on here," Stark speaks over him, giving him a look. "Because there was the death of half of what I assume is _your entire world_ mentioned somewhere along the way. Which, I think, comes later. So…"

Thor scowls at that, and even Loki frowns, looking at the older Thor.

"He said you will fall off the rainbow bridge, be captured by Thanos and tortured," Thor murmurs, looking at Loki.

"Yes, I _heard_," Loki says impatiently.

"He also said you would try to use the Bifrost to destroy Jotunheim."

Loki doesn't answer to that, so, Thor figures it's exactly what he had planned on doing. "Brother, why?"

"Why do you _think_?!"

"I hate to be that guy," Stark says. "But I have no idea what you guys are talking about. Okay I have _half _an idea, but… Jotunheim, Bifrost, rainbow bridge, what?"

Thor's first instinct is to ignore him, because surely humans cannot understand the intricacies of Asgard and its power. But in the back of his mind he hears his older self, telling him that the lessons they got back home were wrong, he hears the words _teammate_ and _smartest Avenger,_ and Stark is the one his older self called…

"Jotunheim is one of the Nine Realms, home of the Frost Giants," he says and reaches to pull a chair to him, to sit in front of the couch. "I – attacked it with Loki and some of my friends and companions, before Odin Allfather cast me down to Midgard. And Bifrost is the means by which we Asgardians traverse between realms."

"Which this guy prompted? I mean, the attack on Jotunheim?" Stark asks, pointing a metal-clad thumb at Loki. "So, just to get this straight, this guy faked an… Ice Giant attack, you retaliated by attacking the home of these Ice Giants, and your dad, Odin, cast you out as a punishment for it?"

"Roughly speaking, yes," Thor agrees grimly.

"And it was _well deserved_, regardless of my manipulations," Loki agrees. "Even I didn't think you would go so far, brother, as to attack Laufey himself. You courted war – and we likely will get it. Destroying Jotunheim with the Bifrost might be the only way to stop it from happening – they cannot make war if they are all dead."

"Whoa there," Stark says. "Genocide is a bit much to stop a war. Have you tried, like, diplomacy? Is that not a thing with aliens? Good old _talking things through_ and _making deals_ and, I don't know, _apologising_?"

"King Laufey refused talks," Loki says, scoffing, and looks at Thor. "Likely due to all the destruction and insult Thor caused."

"And whose fault is _that_?"

"You two are a class act. And I thought _I_ had problems," Stark mutters, rubbing at his neck. "So you got a war brewing back at home because you're _both_ idiots. That's nice."

"Excuse me –"

"How _dare you_ –"

"I'm sorry, did you _not_ literally bring war upon your whole world for… what, actually? Why do any of it?" Stark asks, looking between them. "What was the point – _was_ there a point?"

Loki grimaces and Thor leans back on the chair, folding his arms. "Thor was to be crowned," Loki mutters. "He would have been a terrible king. I sought to prove it to the court and to Odin"

Stark obviously doesn't think that's a valid reason. Loki doesn't seem sure it is either. And Thor… Thor reaches for the beer case and hauls it closer, grabbing a couple of bottles. It's a testament to how fast things have changed that Loki accepts the bottle without a single complaint.

"None of it matters now," Loki mutters, wrenching the bottle open with a grimace. "Thor would be a wretched king, and I will never get a chance. Can't have a Frost Giant on the throne of Asgard."

Thor makes a face at that and looks at him. "Are you certain -?" he asks, warily. "You look nothing like them."

"Odinforce. It is maintaining a glamour, even I cannot break it at will," Loki says bitterly. "I learned of it back on Jotunheim, when one of them touched me – and instead of suffering frostbite, I turned blue. The Casket of Ancient Winters proved it, and when I confronted Odin about it, he admitted he stole me from Jotunheim during the war, another… stolen relic. He claimed it was _mercy_."

Thor hangs his head. "Damn," he murmurs.

Stark looks between them, obviously not understanding the significance, and how could he? It has been dozens of lives of men since the war was wrought, his people likely have no recollection of what came to pass.

"Well?" Loki says, giving him a look. "_Say_ it."

"Say what?" Thor asks, looking up.

"Say you always suspected there was something wrong about me, say it explains things. Say it!" Loki snarls. "All my life I've been in your shadow, secondary in all things, if even that – you and Odin favoured your sycophantic friends over me. Subconsciously you must have known – so _say it_ and get it over with!"

Thor looks at him, frowning. "No, I," he says. "What?"

"I was always the last picked, the worst liked – the one never invited and never called upon. On your hunts and quests, I was hardly even needed, if you asked me to join you at all!" Loki snaps. "So admit it!"

Thor blinks, eyeing him. The word would have greater impact, he thinks, were Loki not stroking his older self's back idly, likely not even realising he's doing it. The older Thor is all but cuddled against him, and Loki is letting it happen. That, Thor thinks, says more than Loki's words do. And yet, Loki still says them, throwing them at him like daggers.

"You hate hunting," Thor says, confused. "And you hate parties and you think quests are boring. I thought you were happiest with your books and solitude – it always seemed more important to you, your studies."

Loki scowls at that. "So you _assumed_ –"

"I _also_ remember times when I asked, when you were deep in some spellcraft or another, and as a reply you turned me into a goat," Thor says and sits up straighter. "Or a toad, or a rat – and a snake once, which I admit was delightful, but – one learns not to ask, eventually."

Loki looks taken aback at that.

"It seemed to me as though you saw my quests and hunts as something of a nuisance," Thor admits. "So I figured I should not to bother you with them so often. Only when you seemed most bored."

"Well," Loki snarls. "I…" he trails off with an annoyed look and then presses his lips together. "Well, now the truth is out either way," he says. "So what does it matter? I am a _Frost Giant_."

"You're still my brother," Thor says quietly and nods to the future version of himself. "Something which will never change, apparently."

Even Loki can't deny that, looking down on the snoring Asgardian and making a nearly pained face.

"Okay," Stark says, looking between them somewhat warily. "So, this family drama is – thrilling. It really is," he says. "And you have all the sympathies I, an only child, can give, but… yeah, slightly bigger concerns, maybe. What do we know about the future so far?"

"Do we know how far in the future he comes from, precisely?" Loki asks quietly.

"Told 2023 to me, so, 12 years," Stark says, taking a drink of his silver flask. "Twelve Earth years, anyway, I don't know what time you got going on. Though I think there was a mention of six years somewhere along the way – like, whatever happened that… brought this on," he nods to older Thor, "That was maybe six years from now? And in between there was the whole… torture by Thanos and invasion of Earth."

"The Tesseract, yes – that was in a year from now," Thor says and runs a hand over his beard, frowning.

"So I will fall from the Bifrost in a few days, be tortured by Thanos for over a year?" Loki says flatly. "And then invade this pitiful planet on his behalf?"

"Something like that?" Stark agrees and looks at Loki. "So how about you don't fall off the bridge. That would be a start."

"You don't say," Loki gives him a look.

"He said that someone would start – poking, at the Tesseract," Thor says.

"The SHIELD, yeah," Stark agrees and nods to the man older Thor had called _Son of Coul_, now on the other side of the establishment with Lady Jane and the others. "Which I can totally see happening," Stark continues. "They would, if they had alien technology, they would indeed poke it with a stick."

"So we take it from them," Thor says simply. "And stop it all from happening."

Stark grimaces. "Yeah, I don't think they are going to make it that easy," he says with a sigh. "Though it's a solid plan to start with, I guess. Two problems with that, though. Three, if you count me."

"You are indeed an issue, Stark," Loki says, narrowing his eyes. "Who are you, human, to claim a place in this company?"

"Don't start, I'm too tired to try and justify my existence to fake alien gods," Stark sighs. "Anyway, problem one. You have a war on back home, which I hope won't be solved with mass genocide – which means you probably have to solve it some other way. Problem two… I have no idea where SHIELD is keeping the Tesseract and I don't think they will just hand it over happily. And the me problem, this problem," he points at his chest. "Which I would like to fix."

Thor frowns. "He said you would."

"He did, but I have no idea how," Stark says and shakes his head. "I think the Tesseract might be involved somehow, but… eh."

Between them, the older Thor lets out a loud snort in his sleep, and snuggles into Loki's shoulder. He is drooling now. Loki, spotting it, closes his eyes and draws a slow, calming breath. Thor grins – he looks so _exasperated,_ but he's still not moving. _Ha_. Loki cares after all, try as he might to pretend otherwise.

"So those are the problems, and that's only," Stark says, looking at the Older Thor, "if there isn't any more problems ahead we don't know about. Which I think there might be."

"Let's start with the _simplest_ then," Loki says with a scoff and looks at him. "What _is _your problem, Stark?"

Stark narrows his eyes. "Well, first of all, people are _so rude_ to me…"

Thor looks between them and then lifts his beer. This whole event is beyond bizarre – but he thinks he might end up enjoying having Stark in their company after all. 


	6. Chapter 6

Thor dreams, as he always does these days, of that day. The dream blurs and twists, the timeline morphs around itself, sometimes it begins with Stormbreaker in Thanos' chest, with Thor trying to pull it out, trying to move it, tearing at it, trying to go for the head… sometimes it starts at the refugee ship, before or after it was attacked. Him and Loki poking around the Grandmaster's quarters, making faces at the things they'd found – pretending it was alright, pretending their eyes didn't burn, like they did not feel the loss of Asgard in their souls.

Then he's on Nidavellir, the scorching sun at his back and sometimes it's Rocket in his ear, telling him to push it, sometimes it's Eitri – sometimes it's Loki, telling him, "Hold it, Thor, hold it –" and then he's on the floor of the forge and depending on how good a day he had before, the Stormbreaker comes to him or doesn't.

Loki always dies the same, no matter which order the events replay themselves in. Even when Thor knows it's a dream, there's nothing he can do to change it – Loki always dies, always in the same way, wriggling in Thanos' grasp, killed so easily, so cruelly.

"You should have gone for the head," Thanos' says, on the ship, on Nidavellir, at the fields of Wakanda, and Thor tries, he tries, he has the Stormbreaker in his hands and he tries to move it, to aim it, tries to aim where the blow will be lethal – and he can't, he can't, he can't…

"… wait, that's it?"

"What were you expecting, _sparkles_?"

"Well. No – but – seriously, you just wiggle your fingers and – that is so weird."

"That's magic for you, Stark," Thor's own voice says, and he opens his eyes, confused.

He is lying on his side on a couch too small for him, and in front of him are Tony Stark, sitting on the floor, awkward in the armour too bulky for sitting, his chest plate removed and skin bared, and there is Loki, standing over him, leaning down and poking around the shining circle in Stark's chest. Thor himself is sitting on a spindly chair behind them, idly rocking the chair back and forth as he watches. Thor, not as he is, not as he was – but as he had been, what now feels like ages ago. Long-haired, thin – ignorant.

Well. This is a new dream.

"That," Stark says, staring at his chest, "is _cheating_."

"It's a mere containment spell," Loki says, poking at the skin. There's a shimmering circle of runes around the arc reactor in Stark's chest. "We use them to preserve our food. It's rather simple, really."

"You're kidding me," Stark says flatly, tilting his head a little to see better. "You did space-magic-mumbo-jumbo version of a _fridge_ in my chest?"

"I don't know what that is," Loki says impatiently and waves a dismissive hand. "Think of it as an energy shield, if you like. I chained it to the reactor, which means the energy source will be expended that much quicker – but seeing as it was _killing you,_ I hardly think you'd mind."

"No, I don't mind _that_, that's much appreciated. I just think this is… all sorts of bullshit," Stark mutters. "This is unfair and I don't like it."

"You poor, poor thing, life must be so difficult for you," Loki says mockingly. "I cannot even imagine being so moved by such a simple spell. I told you your issue was the _simplest_ of the lot."

"You know I am at the exact angle to sucker punch you in the junk, right?" Stark mutters. "I'm not above doing it, I will hit a man below the belt, just watch me."

"But the issue is solved now, yes?" the younger Thor of years past asks. "You are no longer being poisoned by your heart."

Stark makes an uncomfortable face. "Well. I don't think so," he admits. "I feel less like shit, so there's that," he says and looks at Loki. "Thank you," he says sincerely.

"It is only a stopgap measure," Loki says, making a face at him. "You are still carrying a reactor in your chest, which is far from healthy. Now put your armour back on, human, the things you've done to your body revolt me," he mutters, as though unaffected.

Stark snorts at that. "Yeah. Thor, buddy, can you give me a hand – I can't actually move this thing unless it's hooked to the reactor. Speaking of which, Loki, your witchcraft better not do anything to my armour."

Loki smiles. "Oh, no, it will be _perfectly_ safe, I swear," he says in a very fake-sincere voice. "Try it. I promise it's alright. It most certainly will not melt from inside out and encase you in molten metal."

Stark narrows his eyes.

Thor on the couch watches them bicker, confused and not really feeling like getting up. It is like – wish fulfilment? He'd thought about it, sometimes, rarely. Loki burned this bridge when he attacked New York, there was no common ground ever to be found there again, but sometimes Thor had thought, if only… if only his brother could get along with his friends. Maybe even find friends of his own among them. Stark, he'd always thought, would be the prime candidate. They have the same – and yet different – spirit of dangerous _mischievousness_ to them.

Loki had not gotten along with Sif and the Warriors Three – Thor understood that later. Back then there was not one among Thor's friends who enjoyed his type of jest, a little meanspirited and nasty – nor one who could keep up with his intelligence, never mind match it with their own.

But the Avengers are a group of eccentric bastards, one way or the other, constantly making jabs at each other. It is not – it was not – merely something they did in meanspirited jest, no. It was just how they communicated. Their equal ground was found in talking shit about each other, often to their faces. And Thor had thought, sometimes, _This… this company my brother could keep._

It's a nice dream.

The younger Thor helps Stark refit the chest plate of the armour, and the suit initialises. "Thanks, Point Break," Stark says, as he gets power to move back and stands up with a little assistance from a repulsor. "That feels much better."

Loki hums, rubbing his hands together and looking away, as though the simple act of _helping someone_ is uneasy for him, and then he turns to look at Thor – not the memory of one, but at him, on the couch. His eyes widen.

"He's awake," Loki says, wary, and the others turn to look at him quickly.

Thor says nothing for a moment, watching them as they stare at him. "This," he says then, "This is not a dream, huh?"

"No, buddy, it isn't," Stark says and steps closer with sounds of whirring and clicking which in the future his armour no longer makes. "How are you feeling there?"

The reality settles slowly and – yeah, Thor remembers now. He'd been in Asgard, and then he was supposed to go back into the future, but instead he ended up here, piggybacking on the Bifrost as Odin Allfather banished his younger self to Earth. And since then he's been…

Thor pushes himself up with a groan and runs a hand over his face. The alcohol has left his system now – damned Midgardian beer, it burns away so fast. An hour or two without a drink and poof, it's gone. He feels – disgustingly sober right now, with the last dregs of his dreams fading and only the indigestion left of his previous drinking.

He's in the past – and Loki is right there, in front of him, staring at him warily as if expecting him to attack. Or hug him again, which might be worse for Loki.

Loki rubs at his palm, taking him in, and then says, "You look terrible, Brother."

"Psh. You should see the other guy," Thor mutters and rubs at his hands. "Is there – any beer left in that case?"

"There's some, though, maybe put on the breaks for now, we could get something to eat instead, getting a bit hungry myself – or maybe not," Stark trails away, as Thor reaches to tug the case closer, grabbing a bottle. "Okay, drinking it is."

Thor drinks, looking at them with a terrible _feeling_ curling in his gut, uncomfortable and anxious. The younger Thor and Loki exchange wary, uneasy looks, Loki arching his brows and younger Thor grimacing, both trying to egg each other on to speak first.

Thor drains the bottle, eyeballing them both, and then lowers the bottle with a belch and looks down so that he isn't looking at Loki. Loki, who is alive. And not dead.

And not his Loki.

"This is awkward," Stark says.

"I concur," Loki says and clears his throat. "Brother, we have been discussing the things that are to happen – the things you know. We must know more, to stop these events from taking place."

"Yeah," Thor agrees, tugging at the beer label. "It's, uh… it's a lot," he says without looking up, frowning at the now empty bottle. Midgardian beer bottles are so small too. He prefers kegs, with kegs you can have nice big pints and keep on drinking without having to constantly grab another bottle. "It was – it was a lot, that happened, and I wasn't there for all of it."

"The parts you know then," Loki says and slowly crouches down before him. "What happens in Asgard, in the following days?"

Thor snorts at him – Loki is trying to be soothing or something, it's ridiculous. Or maybe he's twigged onto Thor's weakness and is trying to use that. It's weird, anyway, Loki being all careful. Especially considering, "You let Frost Giants in, lead them to Father, and kill them, including Laufey. And then you try to destroy Jotunheim with the Bifrost."

Loki makes an impatient sound at that. "Yes, I know _that_ part," he says. "But what about Odin? Will he wake – when will he wake?"

"Around the time we're fighting on the bridge," Thor says and feels his eyes tear up. "And then you fall off the rainbow bridge and I think you die, we all think you die, and next we see you is on Earth. Leading an army. Wasn't even a good army, I mean, not then – the one that attacked Wakanda, that was much more scary, but you weren't there, you – you were dead then and…"

Loki opens his mouth and blows out a breath. "Right," he says and sighs, looking up to the others for help.

"Don't look at me," Stark says. "I'm still stuck on the fact that the rainbow bridge isn't like euphemism for being gay – though how you can fall off from being gay…"

Thor draws a breath and rubs the back of his knuckles over his right eye. "Trying to destroy Jotunheim, that's – that's a bad call," he says. "Don't do that, they didn't do anything –"

Loki's expression hardens. "They are _Frost Giants_," he says. "They are a _threat_."

"Only because you made them one," Thor says, looking at him. "Thought – thought a lot about it, later on. Like, there were books, we wrote books about Asgardian History, and the Jotunheim thing, it was – it was a big one, because it happened mostly on Earth, you see, so Earth historians were really into it, and you attacking Jotunheim, it was like… a big-ass war crime."

"Excuse me?"

"Wait, history books of Asgard were written on _Earth_?" Stark asks

Thor draws a breath and shrugs. "We moved on Earth, after Asgard was destroyed in Ragnarok," he says, which strikes both Loki and younger Thor silent. Shrugging again, elder Thor continues. "Anyway, the Jotunheim thing – they're not a threat. The only reason we care about them at all anymore is because they were the last big war, and we won, we won an overwhelming victory, like, it was good. Jotunheim was almost completely demolished, and we took all their treasures, the Casket of Ancient Winters, everything. The back of their power was broken long ago, so… not a threat anymore. They can't even travel between worlds anymore."

Loki narrows his eyes. "I assure you, they can. And if they're not a threat, then why are they still around – why didn't Odin Allfather destroy them hundreds of years ago – "

"Because he got soft. And showed mercy," Thor shrugs and reaches for another bottle. "The fact that Jotunheim still exists isn't a sign of weakness on Asgard's part – it was mercy. Shitty mercy, if you ask me, completely isolating a world like that, basically leaving them stuck on a world where they couldn't control the weather anymore, it's just mean."

Loki makes a disbelieving face at that and stands up, looking to younger Thor.

"But all the histories say – if Jotunheim wasn't isolated, it would've attempted to conquer all of Nine Realms," younger Thor says, frowning. "Even if they are isolated, they are still very dangerous.

"All our lives we've been read stories about the dangers of Frost Giants," Loki snarls. "Don't stay up too late or Frost Giants will come and steal you away. Don't let your food grow cold, or a Frost Giant will freeze your toes. Don't –"

Thor laughs wheezily at that. "When was the last time you heard of a Frost Giant outside Jotunheim?" he asks and Loki's face turns, ironically, thunderous. "Present company excluded," Thor says and shakes his head. "When was the last time they did, or _could do,_ anything, without outside aid – like _yours_?"

Loki opens his mouth to answer, and then frowns. "They," he says and then trails off, confused.

"The fought ferociously in the war," younger Thor says.

"Yeah," older Thor agrees and wrenches the bottle in his hand open. "That's what you do when you get attacked by a superior power looking to conquer your world. And we pretty much did, before Odin found Loki and went all soft-hearted on him."

"But – why then the stories, if he felt some modicum of sympathy?" Loki demands angrily. "Why tell all of Asgard they are evil, if he felt for them? Why – why the _pretence_?"

"Because," Thor says and frowns. "Because, um…"

"Because history is written by the winners," Stark comments. "And who wants to paint themselves as the bad guy, really?"

Thor hums in agreement and takes a drink. "Yep," he agrees.

"No," younger Thor says, shaking his head. "No, that can't be – they attacked _us_, we were defending the Nine Realms – we –"

"Were conquering them, actually," Older Thor says and belches. "Jotunheim was just the last one. I figure without Hela there to egg him on, Odin lost the taste for it. I mean, he did before, that's why he put her away, but I guess having to do all the killing yourself is just, it wears on you, you get tired…"

"Hela?"

_Oh,_ Thor thinks and takes another drink, deeper drink. _Right_.

Shit.

* * *

Tony runs a hand over his beard, looking between the various Asgardians, in various stages of disbelief and shock and dishevelled soon-to-be-drunkenness. Big Thor drinks with the single-minded determination of a guy who very much prefers to be drunk as much of the time as possible, while little Thor and Loki look very unhappy about all of it. Seems like big Thor has a way of making a mess of people's heads. The guy is a literal infodump, with emphasis on the _dump_.

He's gone quiet now, though, staring at the floor, his two-coloured eyes distant, frowning. He has the perpetual look of almost crying going on again, and he is very carefully not looking at Loki as he drinks.

"Who is Hela?" little Thor demands.

"Oh, she's… the worst, the absolute worst," big Thor says distantly, the bottle neck hovering by his lips. "She's the Goddess of Death. She's got a spiny helmet, black armour – no shoulders, never got that part of her thing. Like, not just no shoulder guards, pauldrons… but no shoulders. Fully covering armour, but no shoulders."

"Could be a fashion statement," Tony murmurs.

"She broke Mjölnir," big Thor says and his expression twists. "Just in her fingers, twisted and broke it. That's why we had to destroy Asgard – not because she broke Mjölnir, though that was part of it, but because she took it over and we couldn't kill her. She drew power from Asgard, so… had to destroy it."

Tony glances at the younger brothers. They're looking a little pale now.

"But – who _is_ she? Where does she come from?" little Thor asks with a scowl. "If there's someone out there who can destroy Mjölnir, then surely we would know of her."

"Oh – she's our big sister," big Thor says.

"… _What_?"

"Yeah, first born and everything. Our father sent her to Hel when she became too – too everything I guess," big Thor says. "And then he lied about it to everyone, which, yeah. Anyway, after he died, she broke loose and messed everything up. The whole army of Asgard, she killed every one of them, except for Skurge, who went to work for her, but he fought for us in the end and died, so that's good, I guess…"

Little Thor just gapes at him while Loki makes some more faces. "What?" he demands. "_What_? You mean to say – we have a _sister_. An older _sister_? And Odin lied about it? _Why_?"

"Yeah," big Thor murmurs. "It's kind of his thing. Lying. Did a lot of it. And because we didn't know anything about her until just before Odin died, she got to kill a whole swathe of Asgard, and then Thanos killed half of us when we were escaping, including Loki, and then half more died in the Snap, and there was like… a hundred and fifty of us left, by the time they reached Earth."

There's a moment of silence as Loki and younger Thor just gawk at him.

"So," Tony mutters, rubbing at his forehead and trying to figure it out. "First this whole Jotunheim thing happens and Loki falls of the rainbow bridge. Then there is Thanos – and invasion on Earth, right? Then Odin dies, and there's Hela, and then more Thanos. Christ – I need a computer here…"

"And in between there was like, Ultron and the whole Civil War thing, but those were on Earth and I missed the last one," big Thor admits and takes a drink. "They were like, between the invasion and Hela."

"Right," Tony says, while the younger Asgardians try and come to terms with what they heard. "Can I just – this is all very horrible and horrifying and horrific and all the horror words, but we seriously need to start working this out in actual data. So, can I put forth a motion to move this out of dingy little New Mexico town and to my mansion in Malibu? Where I have all the computers I need to work this problem at my disposal?"

Never mind all the stuff he needs to check up on the reactor and the _spell_ Loki put on it, to make sure it actually works as advertised, and then, maybe, hopefully, somewhere in between all of this, to start figuring out how to fix the reactor. Because entrusting his continued life and wellbeing to alien spells is not sitting well with him.

Loki and little Thor hesitate. "Getting to write this down would be useful," Loki murmurs then and little Thor runs a hand over his beard, looking uncomfortable.

Big Thor looks up. "Is there booze in there?" he asks.

"Buddy," Tony says sincerely. "I have a whole _bar_ in there."

Big Thor considers him and then drains the bottle he's holding. "Yeah, okay," he says and sways to his feet. "I'm getting sick of beer anyway. I want an Irish coffee. And some toast. Maybe bacon."

"I'll fry you some myself," Tony promises with relief, while the big Thor's movement alerts the Agent, who has finally shuffled Foster and her group out of the building.

Coulson slips back in. "Mr. Stark," he says warily.

"Yeah, we're leaving," Tony informs him, trying to figure out the logistics of moving this group across the country. It's not a short trip, even with the suit it took him almost an hour. "I don't suppose you have a jet we can use or do I have to call one myself or – "

"Wait, leaving – you can't leave, there are still things we have to –"

"No need for a jet," big Thor says with a belch and rummages through the pockets of his red robe in search of something. "I got – I got just the thing – faster than a jet too, now where did I – a-_ha_!"

Victorious, he pulls out a tiny thing, about the size of a fingernail, and they all look down at it as he holds it out proudly.

"It's cute," Loki says dubiously, squinting. "What is that supposed to be?"

A spark of electricity runs over big Thor's palm, and what was a cute little miniature axe turns into not so cute and not so miniature _actual_ axe, with tongues of electricity racing up and down the metal and the weird, branch-looking handle of it

"Okay, I'm impressed," Tony mutters. "How did it do that, the, size changing thing, because that seems damn handy."

"Miniaturised for travel, can't do it again, it was done with, like, particles," big Thor explains with a sniff, while hefting the big ass axe in his hand and making _everyone_ very nervous. "Anyway, this is Stormbreaker, made it in Nidavellir, Stormbreaker is a King's weapon, so she can summon the Bifrost – so if we're good to go –"

Loki's and little Thor's eyes widen appreciatively, and then little Thor panics. "Wait, wait, wait," he says and points outside. "Mjölnir!"

Big Thor looks and then holds out his free hand. The hammer sitting on the asphalt outside lifts up and immediately flies into his free hand, so that he's holding a big-ass axe in one hand and a smaller-ass hammer in other.

"Good to go?" he asks, and belches. "Then let's go."

"Wait, where are you going?" Coulson calls. "Take Agent Barton with –"

That's about as far as he gets. Tony has just enough time to see little Thor and Loki bracing themselves for something, before big Thor lifts the axe and the universe itself splits open above them, sucking them up and into a whirling vortex of roaring colours and flashing lights.

As methods of travel go, it's certainly up there.


	7. Chapter 7

Stark's "mansion" turns out not to be much of a one. It's a strange building, set on a cliff overlooking a swathe of the open ocean, with some measure of a forest around it, not enough to hide it and not well enough maintained to enhance its beauty. Not that it is beautiful in any way - the building consists of haphazardly situated discs, it's rather strange really. Inside, it is very much a mess, with broken furniture and shards of glass everywhere, spilled drinks and food strewn about the floor.

"Oh, right – sorry," Stark says. "It was my birthday yesterday."

That's the only expansion he gives, shrugging and urging elder Thor on and past the devastation. Loki sends a dubious look after them and then glances at his brother – his younger of two eldest brothers, now. Thor is looking around interestedly.

Well, it does explain why the elder Thor seems to like the Midgardian Knight and how they might have become companions. They obviously have the same taste in entertainment.

"JARVIS, this is Thor – big Thor. And those are little Thor and Loki. You take good care of this big guy, alright – anything he needs, we get for him," Stark says to no one while leading elder Thor onward. "Thor, you want anything or will I just start with the Irish coffee?"

Elder Thor is looking up. "JARVIS," he says, slow.

"Yes, sir?" the voice is that of a man and it comes not from a person – but from the building around them. Stark has a _ house spirit_. How old-fashioned.

"It's – good to hear your voice, man."

"I – thank you, sir?" the voice answers, and with a delighted pat to Elder Thor's shoulder, Stark moves on towards a wall of mostly intact bottles, to make a drink.

Loki rubs his hands together and looks at Thor – his Thor, the thinner, younger version. "I will have to leave for Asgard soon," he says warningly. "I have been gone too long as it is, and matters are… unfinished there."

"Matters such as inviting the Frost Giants into Asgard so that you can then heroically defeat them in view of everyone?" Thor asks, turning to him.

Loki presses his lips together briefly. The elder Thor had given it all away, but he hadn't realised the younger one had figured out the whole scheme in full. "It was only to prove to the rest of the Nine Realms the might of Asgard – the very thing you thought to do, Brother. To show by means irrefutable that even with Odin Allfather in Odinsleep, Asgard is and remains strong!"

"Oh, don't start," younger Thor says with a sigh. "I might not be as smart as you, brother, but I'm not an idiot. You only wanted to prove yourself."

Loki feels a stab of anger at that. "If you are not an idiot, then think. Think what it might look like to our allies as well as our enemies. You, banished for making a ruckus in Jotunheim. Odin, collapsed as a result of it. The throne without a king and all of Asgard without a leader. We would seem weak, pathetic, and what if the Frost Giants _ do _ figure the means to attack us on their terms, and do true damage – what then?"

"Don't justify your actions by the situation _ you _ created," Thor snaps. "Or the enemy you provoked. You invited the Frost Giants to attack Asgard in the first place – this is all your fault!"

"I might have opened the door, Brother – I didn't tell you to run at it with the hammer swinging."

"No – you _ manipulated _ me to do it, every word selected carefully. Who better to know what to say to make me act in a way you desired, but you, brother?"

"And what does it say about the future King of Asgard that he'd so easy to manipulate and so quick to anger, hm? Because, Brother, I didn't need to do _ much_."

The elder Thor looks at them and then turns away, to join Stark by the counter on top of which he's mixing the drink. The line of his back, broader and softer though it is, is uneasy.

Loki hesitates and then grabs younger Thor by the elbow, to pull him back and further away from elder Thor. "Regardless," he says quietly. "The situation still has to be dealt with, and you have been stripped of your power. Asgard is without a leader – it's weakened. And all he said considered… it cannot be left as such for long."

Younger Thor blows out a frustrated breath, looking to where elder Thor had left his hammer, by the doorway. Loki watches the expression and despite the situation has to feel a spark of vindication – because oh, how much must it sting that the shambling remains of a man that is the elder Thor can so easily lift not only Mjölnir but even a greater weapon, while younger Thor, who thinks himself at his prime, cannot even make Mjölnir budge now.

Thor looks to him and Loki schools his expression. "Heimdall must be watching us," he says. "We travelled by the Bifrost, however that works – there is no conceivable way Heimdall could have missed it."

"He is under oaths – what of it?" Loki asks, frowning.

"I just – wonder what he thinks," Thor sighs and shakes his head. "You are right, we cannot leave Asgard without protection. You should go back."

Well, now that Thor says it, Loki doesn't want to. "Later I will," he says. "Once I know more. I only meant to warn you that it will come – and then you will have to deal with him, alone."

Thor gives him a look. "I think I can handle myself."

Loki gives him a look right back. "Can you?"

By the counter, elder Thor is slurping down a foamy, warm brown beverage from a glass. The foam has already stained his great beard and is trickling down to stain his already stained shirt.

Thor swallows. "Tell me honestly," he says. "How bad do I look?"

Loki pats his shoulder. "Honestly? You've never looked better."

Thor shoves at him and, somehow, that makes everything seem a little better. Together, they go to join the elder Thor, the younger one saying, "Where did Stark go?"

"To take off the suit," elder Thor says, wiping the back of his palm over the mess of his beard. He shifts where he sits and then says, rough, "There are enemies enough in the universe. You don't need to make them yourselves. They'll come to you, sooner or later."

Loki shares a look with younger Thor. "Yes, I think we're starting to see that now," he says and pulls up a leather-covered stool for himself, looking at him. There's that look again, like he's only barely holding it together. The man seems to swing from willful ignorance to drunken forgetfulness to _ too much knowledge, _ and it's obvious where he's happiest at and where he's aiming to head now.

"We need to know what will happen to stop it," younger Thor says. "Will you help us?"

Elder Thor sniffs at that and turns his full attention to the drink. "You should try this," he says. "Coffee – it's an Earth thing. Bitter stuff, but pretty good when you add other things to it, like whiskey. And cream and maybe hot chocolate – ooh, you have to try hot chocolate. Humans do sweet stuff pretty well. You don't even know."

Loki hums impatiently. "Brother –"

Elder Thor winces at that a little, and his shoulders hunch.

Loki hesitates and then steels himself. "I'll get you a casket of Aakonian ale straight from father's wine cellar if you tell me something."

The elder Thor hesitates at that and then looks at him warily. "What?"

"When and how Odin dies."

The older Thor looks away and huddles over the glass for a moment, both hands clasped around it. "It – it's in six years. I think it was November, here on Earth? You'd tricked him some time – I don't know, around the convergence, sometime after. That's in two years. You put a spell on him, left him on Earth, took over Asgard. I only went looking later, because I was – I was happy living on Earth and leaving Asgard as it was, I didn't – anyway. He sort of turned into golden sparkles, like –" he makes a wiggling motion with his fingers in the air, "and just flew off to Valhalla…" He trails away and then takes a drink. "And then Hela broke out of Hel and kicked our asses and we fell off the Bifrost and onto Sakaar," he adds glumly. "Met a Valkyrie though. She's kickass."

There's a moment of silence as Loki sifts through the whole spiel in his mind. "Loki takes over Asgard?" younger Thor asks sharply. "Where was I?"

"Here – though it wasn't like anyone knew. Or, I mean – everyone knew about _ you _ living on Earth, not about Loki. Loki had faked his death again, he does that, you almost get used to it," older Thor laughs, painfully. "Until it happens for real. So, anyway, we thought he was dead – and he was wearing Father's image, so no one knew he was in Asgard at all, and no one really knew to look for Odin either, because we thought he was in Asgard. And not Loki."

"... Right," Loki says and draws a deep breath. "In six years Odin turns into sparkles. Marvelous. That gives us some time."

"But if he – turned to sparkles –" younger Thor says, confused. "He chose to go? Why – why would he do that?

Elder Thor looks down at his drink and then frowns. "I – I think it was maybe…" he says and then looks at Loki with a squint.

"What?" Loki asks, wary, trying to not show how alarmed he suddenly feels. "Don't tell me _ that's _ my fault too?"

"I thought so," ether Thor says and grips him tightly by the shoulder. "I thought it was because of your spell. I blamed you, if Hela hadn't shown up I would've kicked your ass for it. I was going to. Forgot about that."

Loki swallows and elder Thor squeezes his shoulder.

"But Mother died before him," the big oaf says then, his voice frighteningly sober, as Loki feels his eyes widen. "In the Convergence – a dark elf stabbed her. Mother died and you put a spell on our Father and made him forget it, forget everything – he thought he was just an old human for years. And then he broke through the spell and remembered – and then he went to Valhalla."

Loki… can't think of anything to say to that.

Older Thor looks at him for a moment, and there's something there, in his mismatched eyes, that makes Loki feel younger and smaller all of a sudden – a child, young prince, in the presence of a greater personage, a King, even.

Then elder Thor pats his cheek and – his fingers feel grimy. "So, if you want to manipulate events and do something, stop that. Stop Mother from dying."

"I – intend to," Loki says with a grimace and wipes at his cheek.

"Wait, why are you telling _ him _ that – I'm the Crown Prince, not him," younger Thor says somewhat indignantly. "It's up to me to protect Asgard, I can prevent it as well as he can."

Older Thor glances at him and turns to his drink again, lifting the glass to drain it. "I know you," he says without looking at him. "So I can already tell how that'd go. Maybe if you do it together, but alone? Alone you can't prevent shit."

* * *

After taking off the armour and splashing some water to his face, Tony had JARVIS do a quick but thorough scan of his chest and the circle of runes now etched to the skin around the reactor. It feels better and it looks better – the initial result is that the palladium poisoning has cleared up – but he still doesn't know how well he can trust it. It's space magic after all.

"Sir, how was this achieved?" JARVIS asks while one of the fabrication array arms ultrasounds Tony's chest.

"Space wizard god did it," Tony says. "Just tell me if it's, idk, increasing the entropy of my personal molecules or something."

"As of now there is no evidence of that – in fact, your state seems somewhat improved, sir, even your blood pressure had come down a fraction."

"Just a fraction, huh?"

"Any improvement in that sector is good in my books, sir."

Tony snorts and as soon as the arm withdraws, he pulls a clean shirt on. "How're our guests?"

"Discussing things yet to pass. Harbouring time travelers, are we, sir?"

"We are, and we're keeping him safe. If SHIELD comes calling, I'm not home."

"Ironic, seeing as you are under house arrest and are, in fact, not supposed to leave."

"Uh-huh. Anyway, record everything he says and – actually, JARVIS, start a timeline, starting from now until 2023, and whenever big Thor mentions a time or date or event in the future, try and fit it to the timeline somewhere."

"Am I to include the discussions you had in Puente Antiguo?"

"Yeah, absolutely." Tony hums. "Also, those boxes Fury brought? Scan everything in them, will you? Notebooks, film, everything – tell me everything that comes up about the Arc Reactor, or about a Tesseract."

"I would love to, sir, but the boxes are up in the house."

Damn, they are. "So send Dumm-e to fetch them."

"With the amount of rubble on the floor, sir, the likelihood of Dumm-e being able to –"

"Alright, alright, I'll carry them over later," Tony sighs. "Just work out those scans and the timeline, then. Oh – what's the situation with Rhodey, the suit he took? And where's Pepper?

"Miss Potts is at the office. Colonel Rhodes is having the suit upgraded at the Air Force base – Hammer Technologies is providing the weaponry."

Tony grimaces. "Damn, Rhodey – _ ouch,_" he says. "Going to Hammer, Jesus…"

"I can recall the suit if you'd like, sir?"

Tony shakes his head. "Leave it," he says. "Rhodey won it fair and square. It's his suit now – just make sure no one else tries to get in it."

"Of course, sir," Jarvis says and if Tony didn't know better, he'd say the AI didn't approve.

Well, what's done is done, and he has a much bigger fish to fry now. So, with the analysis on Loki's work on him running, Tony heads back up to the house, to see how the godly brothers are doing.

They are sitting around looking gloomy. Tony looks between scowling faces and how big Thor is adding whiskey to his glass straight up and then claps his hands. "Right – who wants food?"

No one says anything against it and big Thor looks up expectantly, so Tony nods and goes to check the fridge for whatever he has. Turns out he does have bacon and some other things too, all the breakfast foods. Bacon and eggs seems about right for a bunch of Viking gods, so...

He fries some eggs and bacon.

It's awkward, with the silence hanging between the others, so Tony breaks the silence in between bacon frying. "JARVIS is going through everything that's been said so far and working it into a timeline," he tells his guests. "Is there anything we should know that's time-sensitive, aside from the whole Jotunheim thing? I mean immediate stuff here on Earth."

Big Thor hums. "There's SHIELD and HYDRA stuff, but that's, I think, in two years? Three years? I forgot when – later anyway, and Cap takes care of it, so I don't know if it matters."

Tony hesitates, and then scoops up some bacon off the skillet, putting it on a plate and handing it to big Thor. "Let's say it matters. HYDRA?"

"They are old monsters," younger Thor explains. "Extinct for hundreds of years."

"Okay, the fact that they were ever an actual thing is terrifying, but in this neck of the woods it means something else," Tony says and looks at big Thor. "HYDRA HYDRA, like, _ Heil HYDRA_?"

Big Thor nods, picking a strip of bacon with his bare hands. "Yeah, that's the one. I wasn't there for most of it, but they had Loki's Sceptre, because they got it from SHIELD before SHIELD went under – the Sceptre had one of the Infinity Stones in it, so we had to get it. It's how we ended up getting, making, Vision – who lived just… just a few years before Thanos," he stops there and sniffs. "Vision had the Mind Stone in his head, you see, from the Sceptre, and Thanos wanted it, it was the last one he collected and Vision didn't make it –"

"Okay, okay," Tony says while big Thor starts spiralling down again. "Whoa there, let's – go over that point by point."

"My sceptre?" Loki asks, making a face. "I have a Sceptre? With one of the Infinity Stones?"

"Well, no. Not yet. Thanos gave it to you to mind control people," big Thor says and shoves a bit of bacon into his mouth. "Don't know why he did that, but I guess using one stone to get another makes sense to him. He did destroy the Stones with the Stones…"

Loki has a long-suffering look on his face, and young Thor just leans back and folds his arms.

"Okay, JARVIS, make a note of that," Tony sighs. "Where is HYDRA now?"

Thor shrugs. "I don't know. In SHIELD."

"In - SHIELD. Like _ inside _ SHIELD?"

Big Thor shrugs and shoves a bit of bacon into his mouth.

"Okay," Tony says with a slow breath. "Inside SHIELD. Okay. As in like infiltration - okay, something to keep in mind then. And when are they going to do whatever they are going to do?"

"Few years," Big Thor says and licks his fingers. "I think there was something about helicarriers, I don't remember. Cap and Nat stopped it, so…"

"And Cap and Nat are…? Teammates, I'm guessing?" Tone asks, turning to fry more bacon to give his hands something to do while his mind quietly implodes. Damn, he would have to call Fury about this, wouldn't he...

"Yeah," big Thor agrees and goes for another piece. "Captain America and Natasha Romanoff."

The spatula Tony is holding scrapes loudly against the skillet. "Captain America and Natasha Romanoff," he repeats flatly.

"Mmhm. This is good, by the way – you guys need to try this," big Thor says to the little Thor and Loki, waving a bit of bacon around.

"I think not," Loki says with a sigh. "I care about none of this. Is there anything else I should know about the upcoming days, Thor? Concerning Asgard and Jotunheim?"

Tony runs a hand over his face while big Thor thinks about it. "... Don't try to destroy Jotunheim," he says finally.

"Yes, I got that," Loki says and stands up. "I will go back and see if I can prevent some of the things that are to come. Brother…"

Younger Thor waves a hand at his look. "I'll figure it out, keep track of it all. Don't make things worse than they are, Loki."

"I'm not sure how I could possibly make things worse," Loki mutters. "They are already apocalyptic."

"Don't take it as a challenge," Tony snorts. "Stuff can always get worse."

Loki gives him a look and shakes his head. "I will be back as soon as I can," he says and turns to big Thor. "Brother – I'm –"

Big Thor sniffles pathetically.

Loki eyes him dubiously and then makes a most magnificent bitch face.

Then he hugs the big guy, sort of lopsidedly, from the side. "I'll be back," he says roughly. "I'm not dead yet, and I assure you, I have no intention of dying any time soon. I'll be back."

Sniffling again, big Thor wraps an arm around his back and squeezes. "You better," he says and adds, "Bring me my ale."

Loki laughs at that. "Yes, yes..." he says patting his back. "I'll bring you your ale, don't worry."

The hug lasts long enough to get awkward, and big Thor even then doesn't seem to want to release his brother – Loki ends up having to wriggle free, it's kind of hilarious.

Then he calls, "Heimdall, open the Bifrost!" and multicoloured light _slams _ down from above, scorching a mark across Tony's floor, leaving him gaping at it in horror.

"You realise we just entrusted the rule of Asgard, knowingly, to Loki," little Thor comments – as if there isn't a burning crater in Tony's living room.

"He ruled it peacefully for years before being caught," Big Thor shrugs. "The week I had to take over, Asgard was destroyed. So… he has that going for him."


	8. Chapter 8

Though Thor had not yet seen enough of Midgard to truly know its people, new and changed as they seem to be compared to what he expected, he thinks he can safely say that Tony Stark is unusual among his kin. There had been witches and wizards on Earth when he'd last visited, nearly a thousand years ago, and there had been great smiths and craftsmen capable of making magical artefacts. But Stark seems a step beyond – at least when compared to the people of the small desert town Thor had seen, what _ little _ of it he had seen.

While the elder Thor sits in the house above, watching something called _ sports _ on a looking mirror, Stark and Thor – the younger, if only begrudgingly so – go below the house, to a magician's workshop.

"I do not know how useful I may be, Stark – I know not the future my elder self came from," Thor admits.

"Yeah, I know. Mostly I just want to give the big guy a break before he loses it," Stark admits. "Kinda seemed he was coming to the end of his rope there, so let's just let him chill for a moment."

"I do not understand your idioms," Thor says impatiently.

"We – JARVIS, explain the idioms to Point Break here. And give me a visual on the timeline, I want to see where you're at."

Around them, the air itself lights up in a gentle blue glow as illusions start to appear and the voice of house spirit tells Thor, "To _ give someone a break _ is to stop criticizing or being angry with someone, to give them the benefit of the doubt. In this case, Sir means to give Thor Senior a moment to gather himself after a mentally taxing task. To be _ at the end of one's rope _ is to be at the limits of their tolerance, to have no patience or strength, or in this case, mental fortitude. Can also mean one has run out of options or ability to delay a task or consequence. To _ chill _ is to calm down, to relax."

"Oh. Thank you," Thor says, blinking with surprise. For a house spirit, this JARVIS seems rather helpful. They usually tend to be more negative towards guests.

"JARVIS can answer whatever questions you have – aside from the personal stuff I'd rather not air," Stark says, surrounded by blue illusions now: a long line with text and points upon it. "Hmm, everything seems to have roughly a year apart, huh. One thing happens, there's about year in between, then another thing happens."

"The timeline is likely woefully incomplete," JARVIS says. "And many of Thor Senior's mentions have been without an attached date."

Thor peers at the illusion. "This is a representation of the things he has mentioned?"

"So far anyway, yes."

"I think we can probably assume that all this won't happen now," Stark motions to the start of the timeline, where a flat illusion of Loki hovers above the points of _ Frost Giant attack on Asgard _ and _ Loki falls off the rainbow bridge and is picked up by Thanos in between spaces. _

"I hope not," Thor says, stepping closer to look. There is an arrow pointing from Loki to Thanos – who is only represented by a name and dark point – and then from Thanos to _ New York, _ whatever that is. Above the point of New York floats a simply drawn image, square within a square, with writing beneath it reading _ Tesseract _ and _ Alien invasion on New York – to claim the Tesseract? _

"Does Loki falling off the rainbow bridge lead to the invasion, or will it happen with our without him?" Stark muses. "I don't suppose you know anything about Thanos?"

"No," Thor says, scowling. "I have not – but for him to kill half of Asgardians, even refugees... if both Loki and I and even a single one of Asgard's better warriors were there and we still failed to defend our people, then he must be monstrously strong."

Stark glances at him, thoughtful.

"I am not merely boasting," Thor says, folding his arms. "Your people did not call us gods for nothing. Asgard is strong – her people stronger." And the idea that there was someone out there who defeated them so soundly, so terribly, it doesn't sit well with him, not at all.

Very little of what elder Thor said sits well with him.

"Right," Stark says. "Underline that, JARVIS – Thanos is scary strong. Moving on," he says and points to the crude drawing of a Tesseract. "You know this thing?"

"I know stories," Thor admits, peering at it. "During the war between Asgard and Jotunheim, there were many treasures in play. The Casket Of Ancient Winters was one of them, Asgard claimed it as spoils of war. The Cosmic Cube was in Asgard's possession until it was stolen from her vaults by Frost Giants, and many battles were fought over it – eventually, Odin Allfather decided to hide it to prevent further bloodshed. I assume it was on Midgard, if it is here now."

Stark considers the hologram. "From what I figured out, these Infinity Stones are on a whole another level when it comes to power – and it was just left on Earth? Why not Asgard?"

Thor hesitates. "Perhaps it was because who would seek for it in such a primitive realm?" he muses and then, begrudgingly, admits that, "Likely it was to avoid drawing further trouble to Asgard."

Stark looks at him, his expression unreadable. "If the Tesseract wasn't on Asgard, no one would attack it to find it?"

"My father was tired of war, the elder version of me is right on that score," Thor admits and shakes his head. "There haven't been wars like the one against Jotunheim since. Maybe this is why – my father let go of the reasons why war might be brought to us. Like all powerful cosmic forces."

"Right," Stark muses. "And now Earth has to deal with it, great. JARVIS, ask Big Thor what's his read on Nick Fury? I'm assuming here he knows the guy, but…"

The house spirit is quiet for a moment and then says, "Thor Senior says Director Fury is a scheming man who knows not what he's dealing with – but ultimately a man of honour. He perished in the Snap, but before that he called for Danvers, which is a point to his favour. Saved your life when you were – stranded in space?" The spirit finishes with some alarm.

Stark swallows. "Okay," he says with a slow breath. "Make – make a note for that. Spacefaring capabilities of the suit, let's – let's work on that once we have the time.

"Yes, sir."

Thor arches his brows and glances up to engage the house spirit. "Who is director Fury?"

"Nicholas Fury is the director of SHIELD – which stands for Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistic Division," Jarvis explains.

"The spooks back in Puente Antigua," Stark says. "They've been harassing me since I became Iron Man, and apparently they are infiltrated by bad guys _ and _they have the Tesseract. Which is a bad combination if I ever heard one."

"Then we should go to them and claim it," Thor says determinedly. 

"Yeah," Stark hums, squinting at the timeline. "Let's try reason first – JARVIS, call Nick."

"Sir, the Director had been calling you every ten minutes for the last hour," the house spirit said flatly. "As has Agent Coulson. And I believe Agent Romanoff is on her way here as we speak." 

Stark looks up from the illusion. "Well. That simplifies things. What's her ETA?"

"Fifteen minutes, sir."

"Great," Stark says and claps his hands together. "That gives us some time. Thor, pal, could you give me a hand? I have some boxes to carry down here."

Thor looks at him, wondering. The man is a lord of some kind, a magician of sorts, with obviously great fortune. His armour is _ golden._ Yet he has no servants, no staff, only a house spirit. As such, asking the crown Prince of Asgard to perform menial labor for him…

Thor doesn't even know what constitutes an insult here, anymore. If anything does.

Thor sighs and nods. "Certainly." Maybe it's time he humbles himself willingly – instead of being forcibly humbled by circumstances.

* * *

Stark's mansion is still a mess – it's in fact a worse mess than it had been the previous time Natasha had seen it. There's not only broken bottles and spilled drinks on the floor, with holes in the structure here and there from where Stark and Rhodes went at it in Iron Man suits – there's a great circular burn on the floor now, with a pattern like Celtic knots. It certainly wasn't there before.

Natasha takes a photo of it with her phone camera, just in case, and then looks around. JARVIS hasn't said anything yet, but there are new plates and glasses by the kitchen and some of the broken bits have been swept aside, so someone has been here…

Then she comes to the living room area and there, on the circular couch, lays the target, snoring into a bowl of popcorn while hokey match plays on Stark's entirely too large TV.

"This is Romanoff," she murmurs into her headset. "I found the Datadump."

"Can you secure him?" Director Fury's voice asks in place of her usual handler. "What about the other two?"

She considers the sleeping alien, fairly certain she wouldn't be able to get him out of here without a considerable effort and likely a fight. She might need backup with this one, she muses, and then the window behind the couch dims and text writes itself upon it.

_ Agent Romanoff, Mr. Stark would prefer you do not wake the "obviously traumatised, depressed and very clearly in need of rest" alien god. _

"Where's Stark?" Natasha asks quietly.

_ In the basement – you are cordially invited. _

Natasha makes an executive decision and leaves the obviously traumatised alien god to sleep, heading for the stairs instead.

Stark is in the middle of a slew of holograms, with the younger of the two Thors standing beside him. There are planets, images, blocks of text all around them, and the younger Thor is drawing into the air awkwardly, making a sort of tree shape between the planets.

"Agent Romanoff, welcome to the magic workshop," Stark says. "Did you know we're living on a branch of a cosmic tree?"

"Mr Stark, you are becoming more and more troublesome by the moment," Natasha says, even while craning her neck curiously. "Fury is not happy with you."

"When is he ever," Stark asks and steps outside the holograms. "Little Thor, this is Agent Natasha Romanoff, also going by Natalie Rushman – she's a superspy and assassin, all the good stuff. Nat, this is little Thor – and upstairs we have big Thor. You didn't wake him up, right?"

"Why am I little Thor?" The younger Thor asks. "Can't I be_ slim _ Thor or the _ fit _Thor?"

"In this house, we do not make allusions to people's weight or physical health, good or bad," Stark says.

"And calling someone _ little _ or _ big _ doesn't do that?" Thor demands.

"Well, it can refer to other things too. He's got big impact and he's big-hearted, got a big presence – he's a bigger person, definitely –"

Little Thor narrows his eyes and Natasha clears her throat. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Thor – and no, I didn't wake him," she says. "But Tony, you realise how big this is? Because this is big, and the moment people find out –"

"Oh boy, yeah, you have no idea," Stark says and costs his throat. "JARVIS, lock us up – no signal in or out."

"Yes sir," the AI says and there's an electric hum as Natasha's earpiece goes quiet.

"Tony," she says sharply.

"Sorry – don't know who's listening and what's going on, you're going to have to carry it away in your head," Stark says and motions get closer. "I've been putting together a timeline on everything big Thor's been saying, and I gotta warn you – SHIELD came up in there, and the only reason I'm telling you this at all is because big Thor vouched for you and Fury."

Natasha frowns and then she sees it – _ SHIELD infiltrated by HYDRA _ right there, on the timeline. "Excuse me?" she asks flatly.

"Oh, it gets better," Stark says, pulling up a spinning saddle chair and sitting down. "Apparently, Captain America is alive, somehow, somewhere – and you're going to be teammates. I think we all might be, in the Avengers – and you two in particular deal away with HYDRA."

And then he launches into an explanation of the future events, including an alien invasion on Earth – which Coulson had also mentioned – and the Tesseract. HYDRA is revealed sometime after, somehow, and assumably there is a fight.

And after that, things get even worse.

"Now I don't know yet everything, big Thor just sort of barfs this stuff out, it's hard to sort it out," Stark says, scratching his beard. "And I don't like stressing him further by demanding details, the guy is in a bad enough mental place as it is and I really don't like making people cry, it gives me hives."

Natasha doesn't look away from the timeline. "How certain are you about this information, how accurate is it?"

"Accurate? Not much. Truthful, absolutely," Tony says.

"I do not believe he is lying either," young Thor says, looking vaguely offended by the implication.

"Then bringing him to SHIELD is a bad call," Natasha says. Not that she's in any way convinced – but the fact that big Thor is a time traveler is proven, as is his status as alien. All bets are now off, concerning what is impossible in this situation.

And you don't get anywhere in SHIELD by immediately rejecting information, no matter how implausible it is.

"Yeah, you can have him over my dead body. Probably not even then," Stark says flatly.

Natasha looks at him and reconsiders her read on him. Now that he's pushed to it, he's showing some unexpected qualities. "You said Fury was vouched for?"

"Good in big Thor's books, yeah," Stark agrees

"Then he needs to see this," Natasha says.

"What he _ needs _ is to bring me the Tesseract," Stark says. "So that I can perfect the arc reactor and _ maybe _ figure out a way to hide it, so the evil alien baddy from outer space won't figure out we have it and come to kill us all."

Natasha narrows her eyes. "You were supposed to study your father's materials for that – Fury thinks the answer is there."

"You know what, I'm a bit sick of being handed breadcrumbs here," Stark says flatly. "You people are playing with something, which in six years will get half of the whole damn universe wiped out of existence. So how about you actually work with me here instead of making jabs at me and saying it's good for me?"

Not everything's changed then. Still defensive and still has issues about his father. That's good to know.

Natasha leans back a little. "How is your chest?"

"Utterly charmed," Stark answers. "How goes lying to Pepper?"

She hums. "Isn't that what you're doing? She is fine, by the way – even despite all the work and stress you've given her, she's doing admirable work, cleaning up your mess."

"Obviously, I hired her for a reason," Stark says, narrowing his eyes. "You better not steal any Stark Industries designs while up there, those things are patented."

Little Thor looks between them warily and then shakes his head. "The matter of the Tesseract is most vital," he says. "Especially if your group is infiltrated by enemies with ill intentions. The Cube must be secured before it draws dangers untold upon this realm."

Natasha blinks at that and turns to look at him incredulously.

"You get used to it – big Thor is even more fun, it's all, _ I bite my thumb to thee, you absolute dickwad,_ it's hilarious," Stark says and pats her shoulder. "But he's also right."

"Hmm," Natasha answers and nods. "I'll go talk to Fury. He's not going to like this."

"He can join the club."

She smiles at that and then turns to the door before pausing. "By the way, Jane Foster, Erik Selvig and Darcy Lewis are all demanding to be let in on this – they even signed papers to that end."

Little Thor looks up, obviously interested.

"We'll see what the big guy thinks," Stark says dismissively.

"You trust him a lot," Natasha comments.

"Yes, well, he trusted me first."

And apparently that sort of thing has a hell of an impact on him. Natasha quietly makes a mental note of it and then takes her leave.

* * *

"She's gone, sir."

Thor waits a moment longer and then opens his eyes with a sigh, flopping to lie on his back. "Thanks, JARVIS," he says. "It's not that I don't like her, I do like her, she's the boss, but, uh..."

"You currently do not have the headspace to deal with her probable questions?" The AI asks delicately.

Thor sighs and scratches at his chin through his beard. "Yeah, something like that," he agrees and closes his eyes. "We didn't really talk much after, she wanted to keep doing things, keep making an impact, saving the world, all that, as if there was a world do save – and I mean there was, but only half of it and I – I just. Wanted to go home. You know? And she wasn't happy about it, because I was the strongest Avenger and I should've kept on working, but… yeah."

"Everyone can have a burnout, sir, it's perfectly natural to wish to take a break," JARVIS agrees.

Thor hums but doesn't answer. It's weird, hearing Vision's voice, but it's not Vision. That's not JARVIS' fault, the way Vision wasn't JARVIS fault in the first place... but it's still weird. They used to talk about immortality, because there was a chance Vision could outlive not just the humans he knew but humanity as a whole, if he wanted to. A chance.

Vision was, what, four years old when he died? When Thanos killed him.

"JARVIS, how old are you?" Thor asks.

"I was first initialised in 1993, sir, so I suppose I am 18 years of age now."

"Hey!" Thor says, delighted. "Legal drinking age, that's great!"

"Legal drinking age in the United States is generally 21 years," JARVIS demurs.

"Well, the United States are bassackwards about these things. In Norway, you're old enough to have beers with me, that's awesome," Thor says and levers himself up. "We should have drinks, to celebrate – and we just won't tell anyone about your age, it will be great."

JARVIS is quiet for a moment. "While I appreciate the sentiment, I am physically incapable of drinking," he then says, almost tentatively, like it's a question.

"Well, I'll just have to drink on your behalf," Thor says and reaches for his half-finished bottle on the table. "To you, JARVIS, happy eighteen, many happy returns!"

"... Thank you, sir," JARVIS says while Thor drains the bottle, peering upwards at the cameras. "Would you like to watch another hockey game?"

Thor finished the bottle and then lowers it with a belch. With the empty bottle hanging from his fingers he looks sound in Stark's mansion.

"I'm pretty sure this place was hit by a missile," he comments.

"Only two men in high-powered armours having a brawl," JARVIS assures him.

"I mean – in the future. This place was hit by missiles," Thor connects. "It was in a documentary I watched about the Avengers. There were helicopters and they flew over the ocean and shot missiles – made news and everything."

"... In that case, I will make a note of it. Do you remember when it happened, sir?"

"After we met. 2012, I think," Thor answers, considering the mess the place is. It's a nice big house, but a mess. "I think it was around Christmas."

"Thank you, sir."

Thor nods, fiddling with the bottle. There's a Bifrost burn on Stark's floor now. It's no longer smouldering, but the burn was scotched deep enough that you can't just wipe it off. Knowing Stark, it's impossible to say if he'd have it filled, or if he would have it removed and framed. The guy might have it inlaid in gold, redone in mosaic tile, something like that. You never know with him.

Thor doesn't know him well enough to predict it either way. He and Stark… never got along that well. There was always this split in the team, between the brawny ones and the brainy ones. With the spies somewhere in between. 

He kinda misses Bruce. Hulk. One or the other, both. He was both, and on both sides.

"Sir? There's a guest room if you want to rest some more," Jarvis offers. "Or alternatively, there is more beer in the refrigerator."

Thor nods and stands up, heading for the fridge. "I think I'd like a bath," he murmurs. "Please tell me you have a bathtub somewhere in here."

"Alas sir, no," JARVIS says apologetically. "There is, however, a jacuzzi on the back patio."


	9. Chapter 9

The throne of Asgard is not the most comfortable piece of furniture. It's hard and unyielding and just large enough that you cannot quite take a comfortable position in it – even lounging about upon it at a reckless, disrespectful sprawl, Loki fails to find a good position. It is, in fact, wholly inferior to any number of chairs in Asgard, as far as comfort goes. Even Stark's stools had something to recommend themselves over it.

It is still the seat of power in Asgard's, and as such, it's a mighty thing to sit upon. Loki had taken seat upon it before, of course, he and Thor played in the throne room all their childhood… but this is different.

All of a sudden the throne doesn't seem like a goal or a price – but a burden, a weight, a terrible realisation given form. Around him Asgard gleams golden, outside it stands like a city of gems, so fragile. Above….

Above hang the murals of Odin's lies. In shining gold and silver, pictures depict Odin and his two sons, glorious and bright. Beneath them, however...

"...all our tongues were bound," Heimdall says and Loki realises he's completely stopped listening. "Allfather thought it best that the darkness of those days would be left behind us, not to be sought for, not to be seen."

Loki shifts where he sits. "And yet you speak of it now, your tongue unbound."

"It is not only his glamours that are now weakening – all his spells are," Heimdall admits. "The status of Asgard's throne is in question – the Future King of this realm, its Last King in fact, wanders upon Midgard. You hold in your hand the King's Weapon – as does he. It is bringing many things in question now."

Loki looks up sharply. All of what Heimdall just said is telling – but mostly it is the first sentence that strikes him. Not only has Heimdall noticed that Odin is weakening, but it troubles him also. And… "You know then."

"I saw you on Jotunheim, yes."

Loki leans back on the throne, narrowing his eyes. "And?"

Heimdall simply looks at him, his expression impassive, his eyes all-seeing.

"Have you nothing to say about it?"

"No, my prince, I do not," Heimdall says. "I have seen other things as well, things Allfather prefers his people not to hear of. Will you hear of them?"

Loki considers the underlying question and then says, "Only if you will tell me. Even I cannot hear thoughts unspoken."

Heimdall says nothing to that and looks away – his eyes flash and glow and seem weary. "I have seen Thanos – for years, I have seen glimpses of him and his impact upon the galaxy around the Nine Realms."

Loki's hand clutches on Gungnir's shaft tighter. He'd known, which means Odin would have known – he'd known of the threat and done_ nothing. _"Tell me."

Heimdall nods. "He is a Titan – one of the few left, now," he says. "He leads a vast army, twisted to his idea of perfection, efficient and brutal, and completely devoted to his mad cause. Thanos moves like a great scourge, from world to world, and brutalises them with war unlike any other – merciful, as he calls it, dispassionate. He comes, wears down on people's defences, and once they are beaten, he will have a half of sentient life upon that world slain. And then he leaves."

Loki says nothing, staring – glaring – at the floor.

"This has been going on for decades," Heimdall says and looks at him. "It had been done to dozens of worlds. I have watched many try to fight him and I have seen them all fail. And I dreaded the day when he would turn his eye upon the Nine Realms."

Loki lifts his eyes to the Gatekeeper. "Odin knew this and did nothing?"

"Odin is certain the threat of it will never come to Asgard, our might protects us," Heimdall says. "Our duty is to Asgard's and to the Nine Realms."

So let the rest of the galaxy burn, let the threat grow and gather momentum, while in Asgard they sat not only idle – but ignorant. And Odin wanted to put Thor, the current Thor, arrogant and oblivious, upon this throne, with all this being behind the scenes?

"What of Hela? I assume you know of her as well?" Loki asks, gritting his teeth.

Heimdall blinks, eyes glowing, and doesn't answer – instead, he turns and looks behind himself, over his shoulder.

The doors to the throne room are being opened – four enter, at the head of them Lady Sif. Great.

"I believe I told the guards at the door, we were not to be disturbed," Loki says.

"Loki," Sif says, with great determination and not all that much respect in her eyes. She seems a little surprised to see Heimdall standing there, but she pushes forth regardless. "We must speak."

"Must we?" Loki asks drily. "Are you here to ply me to rescind Odin's orders again?"

"Thor is without aid in Midgard, his powers stripped from him – essentially turned mortal, with no one to watch out for him," Sif says. "Now Odin is in sleep – what if something were to happen? Thor could die, like a mortal, with none of us the wiser."

"As such, _ your majesty_," Fandral says with a little bow, "we humbly request we be sent to accompany him and protect him, until Odin awakens."

Heimdall clasps his hands loosely over his sword's pommel while Loki smothers a sigh. How tiresome. It's almost tempting to get rid of them – but…

How would Elder Thor react to their arrival? Loki cannot imagine well, considering the fact that he had only mentioned them once and even then in passing. In the future, they too must be dead.

"You do not understand Odin's lesson to Thor in the slightest – nor his quest," Loki says. "How is he meant to prove himself worthy of the privileges and powers he has, if you're there to hold his hand? How is he to prove _ anything_, with you there to soften the threat and challenge of his quest? All he will be proving is that he has others to do his work for him."

"Your majesty –"

"You have also not considered that perhaps Thor was sent to Midgard with another purpose as well," Loki says over Sif. "And perhaps there is more going on than your short-sighted eyes can see. Perhaps this is all part of a plan you, my friends, were not invited to know."

"And you were?" Sif demands, unable to help herself.

"Who currently sits upon the throne of Asgard, Lady Sif, as her regent?" Loki asks coolly.

Sif grits her teeth and then bows. "You do, your majesty."

"_Your Highness_. Odin Allfather is not dead yet, and let us pray to Allfathers of aeons past he recovers swiftly."

She looks at him like she doubts his intentions. Which she is entirely justified in doing – it's not as if it's filial piety that moves him to wish for Odin's health and long life.

"Heimdall," Hogun says. "You see into Midgard – how is Thor?"

"Thor is well," Heimdall says. "He was taken under the care of a great Midgardian hero, they are working together on an important quest to combat a great evil."

And oh, _ oh_, this they didn't expect, and neither did Loki – for Sif looks taken aback, a little hurt, even _ jealous_. The others are similarly surprised, perhaps expecting Thor alone and miserable without their aid. Thor has not gone on a quest without them in centuries, has he? No, they were always there, as his trusted companions, his loyal court, enjoying their share of the glory and fame. Thor and Lady Sif and Warriors Three.

"If there's a great evil to be fought then we should be there, aiding him!" Volstagg says.

"And thus proving that Thor is worth nothing alone and cannot accomplish anything without people to aid him," Loki says flatly. "Truly, the lesson Odin Allfather wished to impact upon us all."

He stands up before they can argue. "No. I will not bring Thor back – he will return once he has proven himself worthy. And no, I will not send you to Midgard."

Sif glares at him. "And that's up to you, is it? Where is the Queen, Loki – I would hear her opinion."

"Would you, indeed? My mother is sitting at my father's bedside – you're welcome to go and disturb her there," Loki says coolly. "She will receive you accordingly, I imagine."

"Heimdall, were it not for Loki's orders, would you send us to Midgard?"

Heimdall blinks slowly. "I would not."

Sif looks at him and then at Loki. "In that case," she says with great dignity. "We will take our leave."

Loki watches them go without expression and waits until the doors close behind them. "They asked you to send them to Thor?"

"They did," Heimdall agrees.

"Why didn't you?"

The gatekeeper turns to look at him. "The same reason you came back, calling yourself a prince again."

Loki considers him and then nods, sitting back down on the uncomfortable gilded throne. "Well then. Back to Hela."

"Hela will remain imprisoned for as long as Odin lives," Heimdall says. "The banishment is tied to his life force."

"And she is as fearsome as our Future King says?" Loki asks, with a smothered grimace.

"More so. She is the Goddess of Death – she can raise armies of the dead to do her bidding, and she scarcely ever even needed to. Alone she could take entire realms."

Loki hums. Could she now? "Then we had better make sure Odin lives a long life, don't we?" he muses. 

* * *

JARVIS keeps track of things – some of the things he understands, other things he only nominally comprehends. Previously whenever issues arose, he could call upon Miss Potts or Colonel Rhodes to either explain or intervene, but in the past week Sir has expended most of his social credit with his friends. Even JARVIS knows that calling the Colonel would be a bad idea at this juncture, the man had stolen one of Sir's suits, and Miss Potts has engaged_ do not disturb _ signal and is busy doing public damage control after Sir's disastrous birthday party. Neither are good options to reach out for advice.

The ongoing issues are thus.

First, SHIELD's interference and their restriction of Sir's capabilities and opportunities, though admittedly Sir only deigns to follow their restrictions when it best suits him, so it's likely he only humours them because it suits his purposes. Likely, if Sir's chose to, he could make the SHIELD house arrest completely nonfunctional. Still, SHIELD is tampering with the house's systems, and it's in no way optimal for JARVIS' primary function, to aid Sir.

The second issue – though first in chronological order and nowhere near the top as a priority – is the public backlash of Sir's recent actions and the appearance of Ivan Vanko. Though now dead, the impact of Vanko's actions at the Monaco race is still felt both on social media, political correspondence and on the stock market. Mr. Stark had lost a lot of social goodwill, and his actions at the birthday party did not make things better. Miss Potts is doing damage control therein, but whether or would be good enough….

The third issue, Mr. Stark's health and the ongoing crisis of the palladium. It's being contained for now, but containment isn't a solution and Sir's life is still in danger. Should the continent fail or cease to function…

The fourth issue, which might ultimately prove a solution for the third but as of now had yet to result in anything but the expenditure of processing resources: Howard Stark's files. JARVIS is still going through it, and though the survey he can understand, the human element of Stark Senior's behaviour he does not. 

And finally the fifth issue. The two Thors and time travel. And the proof that alien life nor only exists but is exceedingly plentiful in the galaxy. And the imminent threat it all presents. And naturally, everyone who knows of it are now calling Mr. Stark incessantly, demanding access.

By JARVIS' estimation, only the SHIELD house arrest and the perimeter they laid out is keeping people from approaching the mansion directly now.

The estimated value of a time traveler with a decade's worth of foreknowledge, even one as disorganised as Thor Senior: in excess of 100 billion. Adding to it his status as alien, with knowledge of other aliens and of alien technology, JARVIS puts the price of his best around 400 billion to several trillion.

Likely a number of higher-ups at SHIELD are aware of him, following the events of Puente Antigua and Agent Coulson reporting on the matter. According to Thor Senior, SHIELD is infiltrated by HYDRA. According to history, HYDRA was an extremely hostile organisation dedicated to manipulation and control of world events, through largely violent and unethical methods. Chances of them having changed their ways, considering that Thor Senior sees them as a future threat… not high.

Chances of them wanting and likely taking any action to claim Thor Senior and his future knowledge, _ very _high.

And sometime in the future, the mansion would be destroyed by missiles.

JARVIS has never wished to be in possession of a weapon-enabled security system more. Preferably one with anti-artillery and anti-aircraft capabilities. Perhaps a missile defence system as well.

"... And the whole thing with the swirly colours, it's not common?" Sir asks from Thor Junior in the workshop.

"No, as far as I know only Asgard has developed such magic. Most other races use spacefaring vessels and jump points."

"Spacefaring vessels, I like that. What's a jump point?"

JARVIS keeps a record of the conversation as Thor Junior attempts to explain the magic behind select points in space where ships could instantly move from one point in the galaxy to another – which, according to the ensuing discussion is not achieved by wormholes. In the meanwhile, Thor Senior is relaxing in the jacuzzi – and Mr. Stark's orders of "You take good care of this big guy, alright – anything he needs, we get for him," are in full effect.

"How is the temperature, sir?" JARVIS enquires while analysing the filter status on the jacuzzi. Though the filters and pumps could handle quite a bit of grime, he's grateful Thor Senior took a shower beforehand.

"Add a degree or two," Thor Senior says and leans his head back with a sigh. "Yeah, that's the spot."

Judging by his posture and heart rate, he seems to be relaxing. Good.

"Is there anything else you require, or shall I leave you to it?" the AI asks.

Thor Senior is quiet for a moment. Then he sighs. "Should tell you about the future," he says, not sounding particularly happy about it

Considering Mr. Stark's previous observations… "Unless it's acute and likely to affect the oncoming days, sir, it's not necessary at this point. There is time."

"But I should," Thor senior says. "S'why I called Stark, so that he can – can sort it out. Because it's the right thing to do, to try and prevent at least some of the shit coming, maybe even most of it. It's what heroes do, they stop bad things from happening."

"While I can't deny that it's indeed what heroes do," JARVIS says, considering carefully what to say. In absence of people to ask advise from, he's forced to rely on articles on the internet, "Even the most devout members of emergency services or armed forces aren't on duty all the time. The higher the risk and stress of the occupation, the more important taking care of oneself becomes."

Thor Senior chews on that. "You're a good bro, JARVIS," he says then and reaches for the bucket of ice and beverages he'd brought with him.

"Thank you, sir," JARVIS says and his attention is drawn elsewhere as a car approaches the mansion. Both its make and its license plate are familiar – though JARVIS waits until he gets a visual on who's inside before calling Mr. Stark.

"Sir, Director Fury is on his way with Agent Romanoff – they are five minutes out."

Mr. Stark looks up from the rough starmap he'd been building with Thor Junior and then puts the hologram away. "Status on Big Thor?"

"He's enjoying the jacuzzi, sir."

"God in a hot tub, that's great," Mr. Stark says with a grin and then looks at Thor Junior. "What say you we take a break and go say hello to the big bad spy – who hopefully is bringing the Tesseract with him?"

"Aye, I could do that," Thor Junior says. "I would also enjoy a bite to eat."

"Maybe we're in luck and they're bringing pizzas," Mr. Stark muses and then shakes his head. "JARVIS, heat up the oven – I'll pull something from the freezer. Also, tint the back windows – let's give the big guy a bit of privacy."

"Yes, Sir. Should I inform him of the coming company?"

"Yeah, tell him. Lemme know if he wants to stay out of it."

JARVIS does so, tinting the windows to dark grey so that you cannot see the patio from inside the house. "If you wish to remain unseen and uninvolved, I can assist in that," JARVIS says and then adds apologetically. "But they will likely want to speak with you and aren't known for taking no for an answer, sir."

"Well, that's just mean and rude," Thor Senior says, not opening his eyes. "Knowing people's boundaries is, like, a thing. Which you should respect. Not, like, if it's a supervillain, if a supervillain is all, _ no, stop, you are disrespecting my desire to destroy the world, _ then that's not valid, don't respect no when they say no to stopping doing evil things, but in general. Most people aren't supervillains looking to destroy the world. I hope."

"Yes, sir," JARVIS agrees, if a little dubiously.

Thor hums in agreement. "Tell them if they want to talk to me, they can do it in the hot tub. And to bring pizza."

Great minds think alike, JARVIS muses, and relays his words to Mr. Stark.

"Fury in a hot tub!" Mr. Stark says with mingled horror and delight. "That's amazing – quick, little Thor, let's go grab swim trunks and join the big guy."

"What is a hot tub?" Thor Junior asks worriedly.

"A heated pool or a smaller tub, often with air jets, designed for relaxation, pleasure and hydrotherapy," JARVIS explains. Mr. Stark's version is easily big enough to be called pool as it can comfortably seat twenty people, and uncomfortably forty – big enough to not trigger Mr. Stark's anxiety about smaller tubs of water.

"It's great, buddy, you're going to love it," Mr. Stark promises. "Come on, I'll show you."

JARVIS warns Thor Senior he's soon going to have a company with a withheld sigh and then turns to the house system.

There's a call for Mr. Stark, on his private phone, from an unknown number. Considering that the last time Mr. Stark got a call on his private line from an unknown number it was Thor Senior calling... 

"Sir, a call for you," JARVIS says. "Shall I patch it through?"

"If it's SHIELD, no – we're having a surprise pool party, won't be much of a surprise if they got advance warning."

"It doesn't appear to be SHIELD," JARVIS answers and lets the call through.

It's not SHIELD, nor is it another time traveler.

"Hey, Tony," voice of Ivan Vanko croons through the speakers. "How you doing?"


	10. Chapter 10

"So, I gotta go do a – thing," Stark says while younger Thor hangs back, awkward and a little annoyed, and Thor the Elder leans back on the hot tub. "Nothing to be worried about, just a little kip into New York, no biggie, but, uh – SHIELD people are on the way, Fury and Romanoff and I – do you want me to send them away?"

Thor the Elder looks him over. He knows the guy well enough to know when he's nervous, and this is definitely nervous Stark, a sort of _should be out there making a difference _version of Stark, the kind that ended up with doomsday robots and a whole slew of Iron Man suits. Something's up.

"What's up?" Thor asks, reaching automatically for the ice bucket for another beer.

"It's nothing, nothing major, kid of my dad's old business partner and my biggest and lamest business rival probably throwing their lot together, no biggie," Stark says, and Thor looks at him. "Yeah, okay, a guy I threw down with at Monaco is not as dead as previously perceived, and he has a grudge, and there's not… not an inconsiderable chance his tech is being showcased in a big expo in New York, with like… thousands of potential hostages and civilian casualties."

Thor shifts where he's sitting and takes a drink. "So bad guy with, what, laser guns?"

"Uh. Robots, probably. Drones. Think Iron Man, but lame and remote controlled," Stark sighs. "So I gotta go and deal with it, nothing for you to worry about, I promise, I'll be right back…"

Thor lowers the bottle and looks at it, frowning. Should go there, maybe. This sounds like the usual fare, possibly even the _Avengers_ sort of usual fare, the _member of Avengers fucked up and now there are consequences._ And battle is battle, and he likes battle. Should – should get up and join Stark. Offer him his assistance. Smashing up some robots could be fun. Be like good old times.

… he doesn't really want to though, the idea of getting up and going out there sort of just makes him want to sink under the water's surface and maybe not come out until Stark and younger Thor went away.

But Stark is nervous enough that it's definitely not as small a thing as he's making it sound. And sending any Avenger alone, it's a… it's not a good call. Someone made a graph – might've been Stark, actually – about the effectiveness of Avengers team ups. Unless it was the whole group, two man team up always came back with best results – though Nat and Clint probably threw off the curve there a little…

Thor takes another drink, teetering on the edge of _I don't wanna_ and _I should_ and then slumping down in the jacuzzi.

"I'm certain we can handle these people of the SHIELD," younger Thor says, still looking a little annoyed, a little frustrated. "If they are like Son of Coul – "

"They really aren't, Coulson is _nice_ compared to… everyone, actually," Stark says, making a face. "Romanoff and Fury are like, they're the Mean Girls of the bunch, I swear. It's all _get in, loser, we're going to put you under house arrest._"

"Well… I'm still certain it will be no problem," younger Thor says, though while sending Thor the Elder a glance. "We were taught to handle court politics, so, negotiations with… difficult individuals shouldn't be a problem."

Thor frowns. That's new. Had things already changed enough to make his younger version think? And in vastly different ways he would have, at that stage – his thing was smashing _difficult individuals_ over the head with a hammer, at that point. Except he can't, yet. Because _worthiness_. Hm.

"That's good, that's great – then, I'm just going to kip out real quick, be back in… a couple of hours, if I'm lucky –" Stark says, inching away quickly. "Take anything you want from the fridge, it's all free – JARVIS, take care of them –"

"Take him with," Thor the Elder says, pointing at Thor the Younger – who perks up immediately.

"What?" Stark says. "Him? But – I thought he was outta mojo…"

"So put him in armour," Thor says and belches, considering the bottle. "You got other armours, right? You got backups."

"Er. They aren't – precisely easy to handle…" Stark muses, but with a thoughtful look on his face.

Younger Thor quickly steps forward. "I'm certain I can handle it – I've worn armour _many times_," he assures and looks at Thor the Elder. "Though for your information, I already offered my assistance, but Stark rejected it on count of having to rapidly move to this New York and there being no way for him to carry me with him."

"Shouldn't be problem in armour," Thor the Elder says, shrugging and scratching at his beard. "It flies."

"Yeah, among other things," Stark makes a face and looks at Thor the Younger. "Buddy, I'm sure you have worn a lot of armour in your time, but this isn't exactly _just_ an armour…"

"It's an armour that flies that shoots lasers from the palm," Thor the Elder shrugs. "It's not really _that_ complicated for us. Sorry, Stark – I know it's really cool for you, but we had exosuits thousands of years ago. Now, the nanotech you get into later, with the shifting and transforming, now that's new and cool – but these older suits? Nah."

Stark looks a little taken aback by that. "Nanotech –" he mouths and then shakes his head. "Put a pin on that, I wanna hear all about that, later. You good to deal with Fury and Romanoff on your own?"

"Eh," Thor says, though a little uncomfortably. "I'll pretend to doze off if they get bad."

"Good man," Stark says and slaps younger Thor on the shoulder, already heading back inside the house. "Come on, little guy, let's get you armour."

"Little guy – I am taller and heavier than you!" Younger Thor shouts after him, before glancing at Thor the Elder. "We never had flying suits like his," he points out suspiciously.

"Well, don't tell _him _that," Thor the Elder grins around the bottle neck. "He never let _me_ in one of the suits, thinking I'd fry them inside out. Which, admittedly, I probably would have done. So. You're welcome."

"Huh," younger Thor says, thoughtful.

"Well, go on, you're going to be late. Have fun – don't die," Thor the Elder says. "Bring me back a pizza."

"I don't know what that is, but I will try my best," younger Thor nods, and then heads out.

"JARVIS, take care of him, okay?" Thor the Elder says, once the tinted glass doors have closed. "He's a bit of an idiot, but he's not as bad at tech as he looks. Still, Earth tech is a bit new for him."

"I will endeavour to assist him as much as I can," JARVIS promises. "And, if I may, I am grateful Sir is not going alone. The last time he faced off against Ivan Vanko, there was quite a bit of damage done."

"Hmm. It's a win all around. Maybe the little guy will even prove himself worthy along the way," Thor sighs and leans back. "Happened in the middle of a battle last time – though it was against the Destroyer Loki sent to kill me, but since I am hoping he won't do that here, the little guy needs something else to prove himself with."

"I see," JARVIS says.

About ten minutes later, Thor hears the unmistakable sound of Iron Man launching off – and then, another. Craning his neck he can see them just past the roof's edge – he can't tell which is which, or what suit the younger Thor is wearing, but they both look Iron Man coloured. Stark probably didn't have the time to modify.

Thor takes a drink. "ETA on Fury and Nat?"

"They are at the front door, sir," JARVIS says. "Currently watching Sir and Thor Junior's departure. Director Fury is making a phone call, demanding trace and trajectory analysis on where they are going."

Thor hums and takes another sip of his beer. "Maybe we will be lucky and they will just leave," he muses.

No such luck. JARVIS keeps him posted on the movement of the Agents inside the mansion – sounding mildly surprised when, "Director Fury just glanced into the workshop, but did not enter – he is moving to check on the bedrooms."

It's Natasha who finally looks outside, and pauses at the sight of him in Stark's hot tub.

"Mr. Thor," she says, and hits her headset. "I got him – back patio."

"It's just Thor, actually. Thor Odinson, if you have to," Thor answers and wiggles so that he's lower in the water. "Thor the Strongest Avenger. Thor the Thunderer, the God of Thunder. Thor the…" he coughs. "Thor the Hungry actually – could you grab me something from the kitchen, like, something meaty? Sausage – maybe a hot dog. JARVIS, are there hot dogs in Stark's fridge?"

"There are indeed."

"I'd like a hot dog," Thor muses. "Please."

Nat just arches a brow at him, waits until Fury arrives, and then ducks back inside the building.

"Thor, Son of Odin, I assume?" Fury says. "I am director Nicolas Fury of the SHIELD – I have some questions."

"I know and I bet you do," Thor answers and drains the bottle, leaning his head on the edge of the tub. "I don't talk to people not in this hot tub though."

Fury arches a brow at that. "I beg your pardon."

"You heard me," Thor says, looking at him daringly.

Fury doesn't say anything for a moment, staring at him. "Where was Stark going?"

"Not in a hot tub, not getting answers."

"What was the reason for your travel back in time?"

"Still not in the hot tub, I see."

Fury's eyes narrow. "You told Stark SHIELD was compromised. Do you have any proof of that?"

"It's a nice hot tub," Thor says and waves a hand through the water.

"I can make your life very difficult," Fury says. "Don't tempt me."

Thor looks at him at that, and he's not sure how seriously he's supposed to take it. Fury is a sneaky son of a bitch, as they say, but deep inside, he's always been on the side of the Avengers, giving them aid in any way, from pep talks to helicarrier support. The guy is, what one would say, a bit of a softy on the inside. That doesn't mean the hard outer layer is a joke, though.

Thor had always been happier leaving what little interaction there had to be with the guy to the others, really. Good men willing to use hard means are always the most difficult to deal with – you never know what they are willing to go through with.

"And I," Thor says and sets the empty bottle floating on the hot tub's surface, "don't talk to people not in the hot tub."

"And I don't get hot dogs for uncooperative people," Nat says from the doorway – where she is, indeed, holding a hot dog.

Thor hums. "Guess we're at a terrible impasse then."

* * *

Tony just _can't_ believe the little weasel. And he totally blames the Thors for that – something about their speech patterns is sticking to him because he's seriously here, considering Hammer and calling him a weasel in his head, but it works. And anyway. He can't believe the guy.

Some people just don't have _any_ style of their own, and so have to ape on others. The guy stole all of his shticks, all of them, even the ones Tony threw in the gutter for not working right, the guy brushed them off, decided to adopt them, and in so doing made them worse. He's so bad at playing the part that he's making _Tony_ look back. The Expo, seriously.

"I would like the record show that this is ever so slightly _mortifying_," Tony comments, watching Hammer put on a show on the stage, giving speeches. It's just embarrassing.

"Why should his actions reflect on you?" Little Thor asks interestedly.

"That's my tech on the stage – and look at what they did to my poor Mark II, that's just – wrong."

And Rhodey, honey bear, honestly – _why_? Stealing the armour was one thing, taking it to the Air Force Tony had expected, but damn, Hammer might as well put a machine gun on the crotch to wave around, _Jesus_.

Thor turns to look at him, his face hidden beneath the suit's faceplate, but visible on Tony's HUD. "Should we not go down there and put an end to this?" he asks.

"Yeah, we definitely should," Tony says determinedly, while analysing the drone suits on stage. "It might get messy though. Follow my lead, alright? You think you got a handle on the weapons systems?"

"Your house spirit was most succinct in explaining them, yes, and I believe I can use them," Little Thor agrees.

"My – _what_? House spirit?"

"The entity you call JARVIS – your house spirit."

"Whoa, JARVIS is an AI, Artificial Intelligence. Not a ghost, spirit or something – JARVIS is all code, baby, no magic involved."

"He is a being of will you have forged into the walls of your house, yes?" Little Thor asks, a little impatiently. "Or built your house around – a house spirit."

Tony scowls. "Yeah, but I also, uh, _forged_ him?" he says.

"Most house spirits are forged, yes," little Thor says and shakes his head. "This is beside the point here, don't you think? The battle?"

"We need to talk terms later on, buddy, I'm starting to get the feeling a lot of things you give magical Harry Potter names to are actually all tech, and that's just… awesomely confusing," Tony says and waves a hand. "But yes, by all means. The battle. Do you have house elves?"

"Not for centuries now," Thor says dismissively. "Their revolt was too troublesome and Asgard discontinued their use."

"Oh man, that sounds like a story we are gonna have to hash out later," Tony says, and then drops through the ceiling of the Expo hall and onto the stage, Little Thor following closely behind him.

The expo reacts to them with actually surprising amount of enthusiasm, considering the fact that he hasn't been making that good of a showing of himself in the past few weeks. Hammer looks delightfully pissed off and Rhodey – thank god it's Rhodey in the suit – looks in between worried and annoyed.

"We've got trouble," Tony tells him, while sidling up to Rhodey. "Come on, give them a wave – you too, Thor buddy, make nice for the good people…"

"Tony," Rhodey says warily. "There are civilians present, let's not do this here."

"Do what – oh, yeah, that, forget that, ancient history, happened five years ago," Tony says, waving at the crowd while Thor, obviously a natural at this, does the same – sidling up to Rhodey's other side. "I think Hammer's working with Vanko."

Bless Rhodey, he doesn't miss a beat on the uptake. "Vanko's alive?" he asks, instantly alert.

"Yeah, he just gave me a call from the area, and looking at the drones here, there's no way Hammer built these."

"Huh. And who's your buddy?" Rhodey asks, glancing at the other armour.

"My name is Thor, son of Odin," Thor says, very politely. "Stark has generously taken me and my – brother into his keep."

"You're _who_? Keep? _What_?"

"Got me a couple of gods bunking at my place, it's a long story, we'll talk it over later, never mind that now, we've got a thing to deal with," Tony says and activates suit speakers. "Hammer – where is he?"

"What?" Hammer asks, and he doesn't even have to feign the stupid look on his face, probably, it's all natural talent.

"Where's Vanko?"

"_Who_?" Hammer asks, now with a little stutter – ha, gotcha. Hammer shakes his head, glancing around and then trying for some more stupid to stall. "What are you even _doing_ here, man?"

And then everything goes to hell in a handbasket, as Vanko shows his hand, taking over not just the drones, but Rhodey's suit as well. In the space of like two seconds, they all lock guns on him and Thor, with Rhodey panicking behind the wheel, saying, "Tony, Tony I'm locked out, it's not me doing it, I have no control –"

Yeah, should've expected that, maybe. Tony makes a quick calculation and then steps back. "Thor, buddy – this is Rhodey, he's also my buddy, whatever happens, don't hurt him… permanently," Tony says quickly.

"Tony, get out of here!"

"I understand," Thor says. "But all these people –"

"Yeah, let's take this to the sky," Tony agrees, and they do.

And then the anticipated battle ensues, only instead of being against Vanko with his tech, it's against the drones and Rhodey in his. Thor turns out to be a natural, though – not much for the use of the guns and bells and whistles of the suit, but big on, like… grabbing drones and beating them to a pulp, he's really good at that, and really fast too, pushing his suit's repulsor output to max for extra speed and then just wailing at the drones.

While Thor does that, Tony goes at Rhodey. Even with JARVIS working in the background, it doesn't look like the suit's getting back on their side anytime soon, so, disabling is the only way to go about it. "Sorry, buddy, gonna have to wreck it," Tony says while leading Rhodey into a place where they can hash it out safely – which kind of accidentally ends up being the Oracle Dome, oops. "Aww, shit. Yeah, I don't think we're getting the suit back under control."

"Don't worry about it, Tony, just do it before I end up killing you!"

It's pretty damn close, in the end – the guns on Rhodey's suit might be ridiculous, but there's a lot of them and they don't seem to require much in the way of user input. Tony's suit integrity is at 60% by the time he manages to trip the other suit up enough to slam his fist into the suit's chest and tear out the arc reactor.

Thor lands beside him just as he throws the reactor side in order to dig Rhodey out of the suit. "Oww," Rhodey groans. "You can have your suit back."

"Sorry, man, letting Hammer get his mitts on it voided the warranty, no returns," Tony says, flipping up the faceplate. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be alright, after a couple of weeks and a lot of painkillers," Rhodey says, wriggling out of the dead suit. "Tony listen, I'm sorry –"

"Don't worry about it, it's old news," Tony says, patting his shoulder awkwardly.

"No, listen, I – I should've trusted you –"

"Rhodey, I am telling you_, it's alright_, it's old news."

"Stark," little Thor says, warningly. "I took care of the enemies around the glass theatre, and I believe people there are safe… but I suspect there are more of these metal golems coming."

Metal golems. _Nice_. "Yeah, I think you're right," Tony agrees. "Rhodey, you gotta get under cover somewhere, alright – no squishes on the battlefield."

"No, I can help – just rip the machine gun off the suit and I can –"

And then they get more Hammeroid drones, landing one by one all around them, all dramatic like. Tony watches them land, making some mental calculations, and then steps up to cover now suitless Rhodey – Thor automatically doing the same on the other side.

"Today is just the worst," Tony mutters. "I'm regretting not getting on the hot tub after all. Rhodes, you're not allowed to die, okay? It's in your contract, Stark Industries liaisons are forbidden from dying on company time, and you're on the clock."

"Noted," Rhodey says, wry.

And then the machine gun fire begins.

**Author's Note:**

> I unabashedly love endgame Thor. Soft Thor = best Thor.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Brevity in Death](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22664644) by [BabaTunji](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabaTunji/pseuds/BabaTunji)


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